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THE HEART 
OF A WOMAN 



^ (ALMON HENSLEY 



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

New York and London 

^bc IRnlcftcrbocfter ipresa 

1906 



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LIBRARY 9f CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 
JAN 7 5907 
.(. Copyrig-ht Entry 

W 77707 

rdlASS /^ XXc, No. 
^COt'Y B. 



n £^ ' 



Copyright 1906 

BY 

ALMON HENSLEY 



Vbe ftnfefterbocfter Drees, tkc\9 Jfforft 






CONTENTS 



Love Lyrics. 

Transfigured 

Consecrated 

Because of You 

The Lesser Thing 

The Real Woman 

The Mother-Cry . 

Surrender 

The Three Steps . 

In Arcady 

Good-bye 

Swallows 

How You Hold Me 

A Dream 

A Wheel 

Reincarnation 

Awakening . 

The Call 

At Last . 
A Woman's Love-Letters 

A Dream 

Dream- Song . 

Doubt . 



3 
4 

5 
6 
8 

lO 
12 

13 
14 
16 

19 
21 

22 

23 
26 
29 

31 

32 

35 
36 
40 



CONTENTS 



A Woman's Love-Letters— 


- continued 








Song 43 


Anticipation . 












44 


Song 












47 


Misunderstanding 












48 


Shadow-Song 












51 


Revulsion 












52 


A Song of Dawn 












54 


Weariness 












55 


A Song of Rest 












57 


Death . 












59 


Battle-Song . 












62 


Content 












63 


Sea-Song 












65 


Gratitude 












67 


Song 












70 


Prayer . 












71 


Song . 












74 


Loneliness 












75 


Sea-Song 












77 


Incompleteness 












78 


Song 












81 


Life's Joys . 












82 


Song 












85 


Barter . 












86 


Song 












89 


To-morrow 












90 


Song 












93 


Nature Poems. 












At Ebb 










97 


The Turning of th 


eTid 


e 








99 



CONTENTS 






PAGE 


Nature Poems — continued 




The Meaning of the Bird-Song 


I02 


The Soul 


. 105 


Slack Tide 


106 


Pictures 


108 


Narrative Poems. 




lole . . . ^ . 


. . . "3 


Uwe . . . . 


\ . 124 


Eurydice . ." . 


. 129 


Blameless ..... 


. 132 


Child-Poems, and Songs. 




Whose Children ? . . . . 


. 137 


Lines to a Little Girl . 


• 139 


Sea-Horses 


. 14T 


Lullaby of the Childless Woman . 


. 143 


Valentines 


145 


Noon 


147 


Thoughts 


149 


To-day 


. 150 


The Other Self . . . . 


152 


Sonnets and Rondeaus. 




Masterful ..... 


155 


I Love You 


157 


Affinity 


. . 158 


Zenith 


159 


Returned 


160 


At Rest 


. 161 


Northwest Wind .... 


. 162 


My New Year .... 


. . 163 


Real Triumph .... 


. 164 



CONTENTS 



Sonnets and Rondeaus — continued 
Response 
There is No God 
The Real Life 
A Shadow 
Disappointment 
Adieu 

For Our Love's Sake 
I Will Forget 
Brother and Friend 
It Might Have Been 
When Summer Comes 



165 
166 
167 
168 
169 
170 
171 
172 

173 
174 
175 



LOVE LYRICS 



TRANSFIGURED 

As some rare fabric from Life's loom unloosened 
Awaits the master-dyer's chemistry, 

A fine-spun fragment of potential beauty, 
So, Dear, was I, — 

Till a discerning gaze, a tender finger 

The mystic fibre knew, and in Love's bowl 

Plunged deep and sure in the glad crimson glory 
My waiting soul. 

Now, when life had grown languid and uncertain, 
Here, where life had grown pale and overcast, 

I see a vision of new hopes and labors 
Stretch high and vast. 

So hast thou colored all my spirit's strivings, 
So hast thou flowered all my lonely ways, 

I have no past, save a blurred outline visioned 
Through Love's deep haze. 

I have no past. Nay, Dear, I have no future. 
All I may know is that to-day is mine; 

So I may hold thy face against my bosom 
Life is divine. 

3 



CONSECRATED 

Wild thunder bursting from a gracious sky. 
Devouring flames in peaceful village ways; 

These have I known as, sweet with mystery, 
I see Love's new-born days. 

Love is no perfumed plaything of the weak! 

The sobs that shook you as a storm-swept tree. 
The hush, and my wet bosom, served to speak 

A strong man's agony. 

Oh, Heart of mine, gone is the wild world's din. 
Gone the self-love and soilure of the years. 

I looked and saw myself enshrined within 
The crystal of your tears ! 



BECAUSE OF YOU 

Sweet have I known the blossoms of the morning 

Tenderly tinted to their hearts of dew; 
But now my flowers have found a fuller fragrance 
Because of you. 

Long have I worshipped in my soul's enshrining 

The heart's ideals, the noble and the true; 
Now all my aims and all my prayers are purer 
Because of you. 

Wise have I seen the uses of life's labor, 

To all its puzzles found some answering clue: 
But now my life has learned a nobler meaning 
Because of you. 

In the past days I chafed at pain and waiting. 

Grasping at gladness as the children do; 
Now is it sweet to wait, and joy to suffer 
Because of you. 

Whether our lips shall touch or hands shall hunger, 

Whether our love be fed or joys be few, 
Life will be sweeter and more worth the living 
Because of you. 

5 



THE LESSER THING 

Had the Power that watches, calm and certain, 
Smiling down the dreams that pass and^stray, 

Held aside Fate's slowly-moving curtain, 
Let us see the promise of to-day; 

Had we guessed that to our quiet dreaming, 
To our souls' far stretching in the night, 

One wild flash would set God's sunlight streaming, 
Fill Life's lodging with a strange delight; 

We had looked to some great mountain glory, 
To the bounding of th' eternal hills; 

Where the wandering night-wind sings his story, 
Stirs the ripples of a thousand rills. 

We had dreamed how with wild pulses tingling 
Life would grow one great divine command. 

Flesh and spirit glory in commingling 
As the raindrops joy to bathe the land. 

Still the fresh sweet forest-odors surging, 
Still the sighs and whispering of the pines, 



THE LESSER THING 

Still great Nature's calm, perpetual urging, 
Sweets of power, and Passion's purple wines. 

Height, and majesty, and streams o'erflowing, 
Moonlight stretches wandering white and long, 

All the sweet wild things of Nature's growing 
Breathing out their tender nuptial song. 



How the city wrangles! Through the hours 
Sounds the tramp of roving, restless feet. 

See how through the fog the gas-lamp glowers 
As the phantom forms pass down the street. 

Close the shutter! So I turn and find you 
With your grave eyes gleaming through the gray, 

See a wide and wondering silence bind you 
Like the brooding calm at break of day. 

And we know, so gazing, that forever 
We have lost our Pisgah-peaks of joy, 

Grasped the shadow of our hearts' endeavor, 
Missed the gold and treasured the alloy. 

You and I, — O Love, — our love abides us! 

What to us a moment's vague alarms ? 
Quench the glaring gas-light that derides us, 

Crush remembrance in each other's arms! 



THE REAL WOMAN 

Poets have sung the glory of man's passion, 
His mastery and strength for love's delight, 

The woman's part a tender, childlike yielding 
To an o'erpowering might, 

A sentiment, a stroking of the lion, 
A gasp of joy, half pleasure and half fear, 

Glad, in an answering echo of emotion, 
To know herself so dear. 

Now will I tell thee. In the summer dryness 
Watch for the spark thrown 'mid the dusky furze, 

See the flames work a forest desolation 
Before gray morning stirs. 

See the calm river banked against o'erflowing! 

A break, a gap, — and the tumultuous tide 
Of pent-up passion spreads in wild endeavor 

Flooding the mountain-side. 

Dost thou not know that giving — not compliance — 
The soul's oblation — not its sacrifice — 

Is greater far than all the dreams of conquest 
The minds of men entice ? 



THE REAL WOMAN 

Not only greater as the artist's fancy- 
Is greater than the thing his brush portrays, 

The architect outlives, in grander soaring, 
The temples he may raise; 

But greater in its power for love's expression, 
Because, beneath the quiet woman-guise 

Dwells a supremer and a fiercer passion 
Than ever meets the eyes. 

Because, — how rarely, to man's shame and sorrow! 

When understanding love has found the key 
Treasures undreamed-of show, to stay, unstinting, 

Man's slight necessity. 

Love does not ask. Ere yet the feeble flutter 
Of dear Desire's wings far-off is heard 

The woman bares her bosom for the homing 
Of the enchanted bird. 

She knows no barter and she asks no answer. 
Of man's love-coinage notes not the alloy, 

And in the loving and the fuller giving 
She lives the larger joy. 



THE MOTHER CRY 

So many Christmases have come and gone 
Glad with sweet hopes or misty with my tears; 

Like to the holly, bright to look upon 

Yet sharp to touch, were some in bygone years. 

From out them all one stands apart, serene, 

A deeper joy, a holier memory, 
A birthday dawned in rapture deep and keen, 

My baby uttered her first cry to me. 

Ah, happier, far happier now am I, 

Gone are the toils and tremors of the past; 

Your love has brought the Christmas light so nigh 
The best and sweetest joy has come at last. 

Will you forgive me. Dear, if, after all 

The heartbreaks and the rapture of our life. 

Though my heart echoes to your every call 
The mother still is stronger than the wife ? 

But not apart from you, still for you, Dear, 
Is this great surging love, so near, so sweet; 

May I not whisper softly in your ear 

The while you listen, kneeling at my feet ? 



THE MOTHER CRY II 

Will you be jealous for the lover-love 

Because a larger impulse sometimes stirs, 

Like the soft wind that, waking in the grove, 
Rises to power, and bends the mighty firs ? 

My arms about you I defy the Fates ! 

You are my Thing, my Own; — you shall not see 
Outside my breast. Locked fast within the gates 

The wild world's arrows have no potency. 

Ah! be my lover if you will, — but know 
I want my baby too. Sweet, sweet indeed 

These lover gifts and kisses; but bestow 

The gift that fills these empty arms, — your need! 



SURRENDER 

Now art thou mine, and so the bygone longing 
Melts in the mist of all forgotten things; 

Glad with the joy of summer's ripened fulness 
Know I the rapture that possession brings. 

Marked with the mystic cross of love's surrender 

Stand I forever to my spirit's sight; 
Proud with the glad humility of passion, 

Rich with the knowledge of unguessed delight. 

Dear, thou hast waked me from my quiet dreaming, 
Startled to find myself no more mine own. 

In the slow daybreak of a dawning wonder 
Marking the marvel that this day has known. 

Like yon gray gull that floats forever seaward 
Spread I my wings in calm, unfettered flight, 

Heeding no voice that called me from my freedom 
Through daylight daring, or the bliss of night; 

See, now, how still I lie to thine enfolding, 
Never to stray again by shore or sea; 

Glad of the day because it knows thy coming. 
Glad of the night because it breathes of thee. 



THE THREE STEPS 

Our frank eyes met, and in that swift unveiling 

We knew that nevermore 
Would our two hearts in severance or communion 

Beat calmly as before. 

We sjDoke, and though the words to outward seeming 

Bore no impassioned sense, 
Our hearts drew closer, and our eyes were tender 

In love's great confidence. 

A touch, and the wild fire of answering passion 

Glowed high, and bright, and strong. 
And Nature, with her old impetuous rapture, 

Chanted our bridal song. 



13 



IN ARCADY 

O YESTERDAYS in Arcady! 

How sweet the pipes of Pan, 
As past him, hidden in the reeds. 

The singing brooklets ran. 
O yesterdays in Arcady! 

Care free, by fancy led, 
We heeded not the way we went. 

The words we said. 

To-day we walk in Arcady; 

The white clouds to and fro 
Are birds that fly across the blue 

On errands none may know. 
O sweet, enchanted Arcady! 

What mortal ever knew 
The joys the smiling gods could grant 

For just us two? 

We '11 live for aye in Arcady! 

There 's nothing else of worth 
But clasping hands and kisses sweet, 

Love looks, and lovers' mirth. 
14 



IN ARC AD Y 15 



O fair blown buds of Arcady, 
We gather you to-day, 

And wander, singing as we go, 
The sweet wild way. 



GOOD-BYE 

One little summer, Darling, 

Snatched from the heedless years, 

Cherished with tender longing, 
Seen through a mist of tears. 

Such a long train of summers 

Lie in the lonely past; 
Strange that in Time's slow passage 

This one should come at last. 

Let me be still and dream it. 
Bring to my yearning sight 

Pictures of bygone beauty, 
Visions of lost delight. 

Deep in the forest shadow, — 

Only a field to cross, — 
Whispers of waving fir-trees, 

Perfume of velvet moss. 

Months of a weary waiting 

Gone in a moment's bliss, 

Months of a wild heart-hunger 

Paid for with one dear kiss. 
i6 



GOOD-BYE 17 

Ah! how the silence wraps us! 

Surely it seems to say 
Let the old life with its burdens 

Fade with the fading day. 

This is the only living, 

Gone are the world's alarms; 
Learn we our only knowledge 

Here, in each other's arms. 

In the pale twilight gleaming 

Dark with love's mysteries, 
Deep with a world of passion 

See I your burning eyes. 

Oh! the dear joy of the open, 

Forest and field and grove; 
Calmness and green beneath us. 

Quiet and blue above. 

And by the soft star-shining, 

In the cool evening wind, 
Dreams of a bliss unspoken 

Echo and answer find. 

Only the heart's wild stirrings 

Spirit and senses move ; 
Moist with unnumbered kisses 

Linger the lips of love. 



1 8 GOOD-BYE 



Ah! the great world may pilfer 
Things that our bodies crave, 

Shatter our soul's ambition, 
Snatch back the hope she gave; 

But in the heart's great temple, 
Reared on its altar high, 

Spotless and stedfast ever 
Standeth a memory. 



SWALLOWS 

I SAW you come, O swallows; April's sun 
Proclaimed your advent; ere fair Spring had won 
Her golden crown of royalty again, 
You came, her heralds, to announce her reign. 
I watched you then and through the summer's length; 
I saw you build, and wondered at the strength 
Of wing, and speed of motion, as you swooped 
Circling in eddying air, or pausing drooped 
Towards earth, — then, darting, soared, where tired eye 
No more could follow, nor your path descry. 
I came in spring, as you, and now that I, 
As you do, find all desolate and dry 
Where in the summer-time were blossoms gay. 
And my false love has turned her smile away 
As now from you the sun, I will receive 
Your free example, and will haste to leave 
Th' unkindly atmosphere, and, sorrowing, fly 
To where a warmer sun, a kindlier eye 
Will greet my frozen soul. Yet, swallows, you 
Will come again when Spring is clothed anew, 
And I, — and I, — forgetting autumn's pain, 
19 



20 SWALLOWS 

Shall take wing to my cruel Fair again, 
When, in the end of wintry doubt and fear 
Her smile shall tell me that my Spring is here. 



HOW YOU HOLD ME 

What do you hold me by, Dear Heart? I wonder if 

you know. 
By the great brain that dazzled me those many years 

ago? 
By your man's strength and power to succor and provide, 
Your eager joy to labor, so I be satisfied ? 
Is it your worship of me that keeps me close to you, 
Your wondrous wondering reverence, so tender and so 

true? 
Is it your human passion that, like the mighty tide. 
Buffets my slumbering senses, and sweeps me to your 

side? 
Ah, all these things are lovely, I warm them next my 

heart. 
But none of them would hold me, together or apart. 
The thing that keeps me near you, the thing that through 

the years 
Will hold me ever closer, so you may have no fears. 
The one sure weapon you can wield, from Love's great 

armory, 
It is your need of me. Dear Heart, it is your need of me! 



A DREAM 

Sometimes I waken to the common life 

Of every day 
As a lone soldier waked to dawn and strife 

Might smile, and say : 
'T was but a dream, the fireside glad and gay; 

The bugles start 
Lest its sweet warmth unman me, and I play 

A coward's part." 

The wondrous thing my life had never known 

Thou bringst to me — 
'T is a red rosebud that has nearly blown 

In ecstasy. 
If this be but a dream, and soon must flee 

At morning break. 
For years of endless night I make my plea, 

I will not wake! 



22 



A-WHEEL 

We sped where the yellow sunlight 
Fell straight in the narrowing way; 

And the town with its care and its counsel 
Was gone, with the youth of the day. 

And we frightened a little brown squirrel 
That scampered to see us passf 

And we laughed with the clover blossoms, 
And leaned with the waving grass. 

And all the unuttered joyance, 
The gladness of youth and sight. 

Found voice in the roadside rapture. 
Grew great in the wood's delight. 

But the wood knew her old enchantment. 
And we slackened, our race was done; 

While high in the western heaven 
Sailed the triumphant sun. 

To rest in the cool sweet shadow 
Seemed bliss for a wealth of days. 

And the whisper of pine and maple 
The song of eternal ways. 
23 



24 ^- WHEEL 

So, weary with sweet exertion, 
And panting with dear distress, 

We sought out the byway beauty. 
And entered the wilderness; 

A tangle of green and russet, 
Of alder, and birch, and pine, 

A mingling of myriad odors 

That mount to the brain like wine ; 

The moss, and the sweet subsiding, 
The word, and the long-drawn sigh. 

And deep in the soul's perception 
The marvels of mystery; 

For you, with your manly beauty, 
And I, with my wind-tossed hair. 

Were part of the woods and the waiting, 
And one with the birds and the air. 

And silences fell upon us. 

The wood-wind's sorcery. 
While far in the sand-swept distance 

We could hear the wail of the sea. 

A whisper of life's old longing 
Down-quivered, and soared a space, 

Then, a stray bird, homecoming, 
Flew swift to its nesting place; 



A- WHEEL 25 

And we felt that the day was ours, 

The whole glad, beautiful day, 
And the world, with its unwise wisdom, 

Was millions of miles away. 

We knew that the only knowledge 

Was what we were dreaming then; 
That the speech of a moment's silence 

Outrivals the roar of men. 

And cheek touched cheek for an instant; 

And the dusk with her tender hands 
Unravelled her filmy curtains. 

And loosened her lilac bands; 

And, as the gray birds in the gloaming 

Close nestle, and flutter for cold, 
We gathered our gladness together. 

And garnered our harvest of gold. 

The stir, and the dawn, and the daylight 

Were notes on a far-blown horn; 
As wild wind-whispers to ocean 

The dream of a coming morn. 

And near was the scent of the spruces. 

The tender breath of the breeze. 
And far in forgotten distance 

The thunder of mighty seas. 



REINCARNATION 

Far off in some dim age of long ago 

I held thy hand; 
Swiftly we climbed the mountain tipped with snow 

Of a far land. 

Free as two swallows on the homeward quest, 

Glad as the day, 
Earth-children for a space, at Love's behest 

Won we our way. 

For the great Master, deigning in his joy 

To incarnate be, 
Desiring mortal shape of maid and boy 

Chose thee and me. 

Gave us no words to speak, no way to wend, 

No task to weave; 
One starry soul was ours, one joy to tend, 

One heart to grieve. 

One, as the crystal drops in some great sea 

Forevermore, 

Bore we our gladness in Love's liberty 

From shore to shore. 
26 



REINCARNA TION 2y 

Our bodies' beauty knew we for the joy 

Of love's desire, 
Of sweets that might not die, that could not cloy 

Th' eternal fire. 

And when we fain would of our Master learn 

Some unknown bliss 
We found our knowledge hid in eyes that burn, 

In lips that kiss. 

And saw we well that only those who give 

Can ever gain; 
That sometimes must he tread who fain would live 

The paths of pain. 

* •jt * * * 

Ages have gone; and only in our dreams 

Knew we the past, 
Till, beyond fear of doubt, where sunlight streams 

We meet at last. 

Like a pale aureole gleams thy tawny hair, 

'Tis but a day 
Surely, since first my fingers wandered there 

In tender play. 



28 REINCARNA TION 

Through the deep silence all the rapturous hours 

Of bygone days 
Drop like a fragrant shower of falling flowers 

In woodland ways. 

The few years' waiting-time is but a door, 

A pause, a sign; 
And all the great unknown forevermore 

Is mine and thine. 



AWAKENING 

No glory of golden sunlight 

Shone out when the day was dim, 

No vision of mystic beauty 
Looked over the sunset rim. 

And never with mortal hearing 

The thrill of thy name was known; 

I wandered through silent chambers, 
And gazed on an empty throne. 

Yet now through the dreams and the silence 
Thou callest me sure and strong. 

Like the clarion note of a trumpet 
At the close of a soldier's song. 

By the meteor flash of thy thinking 

I see the parting of ways. 
And the old, old labors and longings 

Fade in a far-off haze. 

And I rise in my trailing garments 

And loosen their binding bands, 

Free must I be to follow. 

Lithe to thy hallowing hands. 
29 



30 A WAKENING 

Not in a pained impatience 
Wait I my coming bliss, 

Not as a maiden trembles 
Nearing her lover's kiss; 

Proudly I stand with my treasures, 
Dower of gold and gem ; 

Bright with an unbought beauty 
Glitters thy diadem. 

I know not the haunts that hold thee, 
The goal where thy gazings tend ; 

I only know that God's sunlight 
Is over the way we wend. 



THE CALL 

I COME, O King! 
In garb of seemly state am I arrayed 
With power of conquest such as queens should brin^ 
In regal pride and joy that makes afraid 
I come, O King! 

I come, O Knight ! 
Armored in samite misty as the dew 
Forth fare I bravely. Ready for the fight 
Glitters the sword of Truth; to follow you 
I come, O Knight ! 

I come, O Love ! 
Clad in the crimson robe of my desire. 
With level brows and eyes that may not rove, 
With gladness strong as fate and keen as fire 

I come, O Love ! 



AT LAST 

Sweeter than song of bird or shout of angel, 

Fairer than dawn of day, 
Over the far red mountain of oblivion 

Stretches the love-lit way. 

The past is gone, like some grim midnight vision. 

Gone with the strife of years; 
Washed into muteness with pain's purple chrism. 

The rain of love's own tears. 

There is no death, there are no night nor morning. 

No fears and no alarms; 
Only a breathless longing, — and before me 

The haven of thine arms. 



32 



A WOMAN'S LOVE-LETTERS. 



33 



A DREAM 

I STOOD far off above the haunts of men 

Somewhere, I know not, when the sky was dim 
From some worn glory and the morning hymn 

Of the gay oriole echoed from the glen. 

Wandering, I felt earth's peace, nor knew I sought 
A visioned face, a voice the wind had caught. 

I passed the waking things that stirred and gazed, 
Thought-bound, and heeded not; the waking flowers 
Drank in the morning mist, dawn's tender showers, 

And looked forth for the Day-god who had blazed 
His heart away and died at sundown. Far 
In the gray west faded a loitering star. 

It seemed that I had wandered through long years, 
A life of years, still seeking gropingly 
A thing I dared not name ; now could I see 

In the still dawn a hope, in the soft tears 
Of the deep-hearted violets a breath 
Of kinship, like the herald voice of Death. 

Slow moved the morning; where the hill was bare 
Woke a reluctant breeze. Dimly I knew 
My Day was come. The wind-blown blossoms threw 
35 



36 A DREAM 

Their breath about me, and the pine-swept air 
Grew to a shape, a mighty, formless thing, 
A phantom of the wood's imagining. 

And as I gazed, spell-bound, it seemed to move 
Its tendril limbs, still swaying tremulously 
As if in spirit-doubt; then glad and free 

Crystalled the being won from waiting grove 
Into a human likeness. There he stood. 
The vine-browed shape of Nature's mortal mood. 

" Now have I found thee, Vision I have sought 
These years, unknowing ; surely thou art fair 
And inly wise, and on thy tasseled hair 

Glows Heaven's own light. Passion and fame are 
nought 
To thy clear eyes, O Prince of many lands, — 
Grant me thy joy," I cried, and stretched my hands. 

No answer but the flourish of the breeze 

Through the black pines. Then, slowly, as the wind 

Parts the dense cloud-forms, leaving naught behind 
But shapeless vapor, through the budding trees 

Drifted some force unseen, and from my sight 

Faded my god into the morning light. 

Again alone. With wistful, straining eyes 
I waited, and the sunshine flecked the bank 
Happy with arbutus and violets where I sank 



A DREAM 37 

Hearing, near by, a host of melodies. 
The rapture of the woodthrush ; soft her mood 
The love-mate, with such golden numbers woo'd. 

He ceased; the fresh moss-odors filled the grove 
With a strange sweetness; the dark hemlock boughs 
Moved soft as though they heard the brooklet rouse 

To its spring soul and whisper low of love. 
The white-robed birches stood unbendingly 
Like royal maids, in proud expectancy. 

Athwart the ramage where the young leaves press 

It came to me, ah, call it what you will. 

Vision or waking dream, I see it still ! 
Again a form born of the woodland stress 

Grew to my gaze, and by some secret sign 

Though shadow-hid, I knew the form was thine. 

The glancing sunlight made thy ruddy hair 
A crown of gold, but on thy spirit-face 
There was no smile, only a tender grace 

Of love half doubt. Upon thy hand a rare 
Wild bird of Paradise perched fearlessly 
With radiant plumage and still, lustrous eye. 

And as I gazed I saw what I had deemed 
A shadow near thy hand, a dusky wing, 
A bird like last year's leaves, so dull a thing 



38 A DREAM 

Beside its fellow; as the sunshine gleamed 

Each breast showed letters bright as crystalled rain: 
The fair bird bore " Delight," the other '' Pain." 

Then came thy voice : " O Love, wilt have my gift ? " 
I stretched my glad hands eagerly to grasp 
The heaven-blown bird, gold-hued, and longed to 
clasp 

It close and know it mine. Ere I might lift 
The shining thing and hold it to my breast 
Again I heard thy voice with vague unrest. 

" These are twin birds and may not parted be." 
Full in thine eyes I gazed, and read therein 
The paradox of life, of love, of sin, 

As on a night of cloud and mystery 

One darting flash makes bright the hidden ways, 
And feet tread knowingly though thick the haze. 

Thy gift, if so I chose, — no other hand 

Save thine. — I reached and gathered to my heart 
The quivering, sentient things. — Sometimes I start 

To know them hidden there. — If I should stand 
Idly, some day, and one^ — God help me! — breast 
A homing breeze, — my brown bird knows its nest. 



DREAM-SONG 

Cam' ST thou not nigh to me 
In that one glimpse of thee 
When thy lips, tremblingly, 

Said: "My Beloved"? 
'T was but a moment's space, 
And in that crowded place 
I dared not scan thy face, 

O ! my Beloved. 

Yet there may come an hour 
When Love's unfading flower 
Has grown an Eden bower 

For us. Beloved; 
When, safe 'neath sheltering arm, 
I may, without alarm, 
Hear thy lips, close and warm, 
Murmur : " Beloved! " 



39 



DOUBT 

I DO not know if all the fault be mine, 
Or why I may not think of thee and be 
At peace with mine own heart. Unceasingly 

Grim doubts beset me, bygone words of thine 
Take subtle meaning, and I cannot rest 
Till all my fears and follies are confessed. 

Perhaps the wild wind's questioning has brought 
My heart its melancholy, for, alone 
In the night stillness, I can hear hini moan 

In sobbing gusts, as though he vainly sought 
Some bygone bliss. Against the dripping pane 
In storm-blown torrents beats the driving rain. 

Nay I will tell thee all, I will not hide 

One thought from thee, and if I do thee wrong 
So much the more must I be brave and strong 

To show my fault. And if thou then shouldst chide 
I will accept reproof most willingly 
So it but bringeth peace to thee and me. 

I dread thy past. Phantoms of other days 
Pursue my vision. There are other hands 

Which thou hast held, perchance some slender bands 

40 



DOUBT 41 

That draw thee still to other woodland ways 

Than those which we have known, some blissful hours 
I do not share, of love, and June, and flowers. 

I dread her most, that woman whom thou knewest 
Those years ago, — I cannot bear to think 
That she can say : " My lover praised the pink 

Of palm, or ear," " The violets were bluest 

In that dear copse," and dream of some fair day 
When thou didst while her summer hours away. 

I dread them too, those light loves and desires 
That lie in the dim shadow of the years; 
I fain would cheat myself of all my fears 

And, as a child watching warm winter fires. 
Dream not of yesterday's black embers, nor 
To-morrow's ashes that may strew the floor. 

I did not dream of this while thou wert near, 
But now the thought that haunts me day by day 
Is that the things I love, the tender way 

Of mastery, the kisses that are dear 

As Heaven's best gifts, to other lips and arms 
Owe half their blessedness and all their charms. 

Tell me that I am wrong, O Man of men! 
Surely it is not hard to comfort me. 
Laugh at my fears with dear persistency. 



42 DOUBT 

Nay, if thou must, lie to me! There, again, 
I hear the rain, and the wind's wailing cry 
Stirs with wild life the night's monotony. 



SONG 

If I had known 
That when the morrow dawned the roses would be dead 
I would have filled my hands with blossoms white and 
red. 

If I had known! 

If I had known 
That I should be to-day deaf to all happy birds 
I would have lain for hours to listen to your words. 

If I had known! 

If I had known 
That with the morning light you would be gone for aye 
I would have been more kind; — sweet Love had won 
his way 

If I had known. 



43 



ANTICIPATION 

Let us peer forward through the dusk of years 
And force the silent future to reveal 
Her store of garnered joys; we may not kneel 

Forever, and entreat our bliss with tears. 

Somewhere on this drear earth the sunshine lies, 
Somewhere the air breathes heaven-blown harmonies. 



Some day when you and I have fully learned 
Our waiting lesson, wondering, hand in hand 
We shall gaze out upon an unknown land, 

Our thoughts and our desires forever turned 
From our old griefs, as swallows, homewarding. 
Sweep ever southward with unwearied wing. 



We shall fare forth, comrades forevermore. 

Though the ill-omened bird Time loves to bear 
Has brushed this cheek and left an impress there 

I^shall be fierce and dauntless as of yore, 
Free as a bird o'er the wide world to rove. 
As strong and fearless, O my Love, to love. 
44 



ANTICIPATION 45 

What have we now ? The haunting, vague unrest 
Of incompleted measures; and we dream 
Vainly, of the Musician and His theme, 

How the great Master in a day most blest 
Shall strike some mighty chords in harmony, 
And make an end, and set the music free! 

We snatch from Fate our moments of delight. 

Few as, in April hours, the wooing calls 

Of orioles, or when the twilight falls 
First o'er the forest ere the approach of night 

The eyes of evening; — and Love's song is sung 

But once. Dear Heart, but once, and we are young. 

Over the seas together, you and I, 

Neath blue Italian skies, or on the hills 

Of storied Greece, — where the warm sunlight fills 
Spain's mellow vineyards, — wandering reverently 

O'er the green plains of Palestine, — our days 

A golden holiday in Old World ways. 

Yet would we linger not by southern shores; 
The bracing breath of Scandinavian snows 
Would draw us from our dreams. The north wind 
blows 

Upon thy cheek, my Norseman, and the roars 
Of the wild Baltic sound within my ears 
When to my dreams thy stalwart form appears. 



46 ANTICIPA TION 

This will the future bring. See! Thou hast given 
From out the fulness of thy strength and will 
This courage to me. Though the rugged hill 

Looms high, and fronts our vision, yet our heaven 
(I see it when I sleep), with portals wide 
And shining towers, gleams on the farther side. 



SONG 

" Tshirr! " scolds the oriole 

Where the elms stir, 
Flaunting her gourd-like nest 
On the tree's swaying crest: 

" May's here, I cannot rest, 

Go away, tshirr ! " 

" Tshirr! " scolds the oriole 

Where the leaves blur, 
Giving her threads a jerk. 
Spying where rivals lurk, 

" May's here, and I 'm at work. 

Go away, tshirr ! " 



47 



MISUNDERSTANDING 

Spring's face is wreathed in smiles. She had been 
driven 

Hither and thither at the surly will 

Of treacherous winds till her sweet heart was chill. 
Into her grasp the sceptre has been given, 

And now she touches with a proud young hand 

The earth, and turns to blossoms all the land. 

We catch the smile, the joyousness, the pride, 
And share them with her. Surely winter gloom 
Is for the old, and frost is for the tomb. 

Youth must have pleasure, and the tremulous tide 
Of sun-kissed waves, and all the golden fire 
Of summer's noontide splendor of desire. 

I have forgotten — for the breath of buds 
Is on my temples — if in former days 
I have known sorrow; I remember praise. 

And calm content, and joy's great ocean-floods. 
And many dreams so sweet that, in their place, 
We would not welcome even Truth's fair face. 

O man to whom my heart has leaned, dost know 

Aught of my life? Sometimes a strong despair 

48 



MISUNDERSTANDING 49 

Enters my soul and finds a lodging there; 
Thou dost not know me, and the years will go 
As these last months have gone, and I shall be 
Still far, still a strange woman unto thee. 

I do not blame thee. If there is a fault 
Let it be mine, for surely had I tried 
The door of my heart's home to open wide 

No need had been for even Love's assault. 
And yet, methinks, somewhere there is a key 
Thou mightest have found, and entered happily. 

I am no saint niched in a hallowed wall 
For men to worship, but I would compel 
A level gaze. You teachers who would tell 

A woman's place, I do defy you all! 

While justice lives, and love with joy is crowned,, 
Woman and man must meet on equal ground. 

The deepest wrong is falsehood. She who sells 
Her soul and body for a little gain 
In ease, or the world's notice, has a stain 

Upon her soul no lighter for the bells 
Of marriage rites, and purer far is she 
Who gives her all for love's sad ecstasy. 

Canst thou not understand a nature strong 
And passionate, with impulses that sway^ 

4 



5© Misunderstanding 

With yearning tenderness that must have way, 
Yet knows no ill desire, no touch of wrong ? 
If thou canst not, then in God's name I pray 
See me no more forever from this day. 



SHADOW SONG 

The night is long 

And there are no stars, — 
Let me but dream 
That the long fields gleam 
With sunlight and song, 
Then I shall not long 
For the light of stars. 

Let me but dream, — 
For there are no stars, — 
Dream that the ache 
And the wild heart-break 
Are but things that seem. 
Ah! let me dream. 

For there are no stars. 



51 



REVULSION 

I SEE the starting buds, I catch the gleam 
In the near distance of a sun-kissed pool, 
The blessed April air blows soft and cool; 

Small wonder if all sorrow grows a dream, 
And we forget that close around us lie 
A city's poor, a city's misery. 

Of every outward vision there is some 
Internal counterpart. To-day I know 
The blessedness of living, and the glow 

Of life's dear spring-tide. I can bid thee come 
In thought and wander where the fields are fair 
With bursting life, and I, rejoicing, there. 

Yet have I passed. Beloved, through the vale 
Of dark dismay, and felt the dews of death 
Upon my brow, have measured out my breath 

Counting my hours of joy, as misers quail 
At every footfall in the quiet night 
And clutch their gold and count it in affright. 
52 



REVULSION 53 

I learned new lessons in that school of fear, 
Life took a fresh perspective ; sad and brave 
The view is from the threshold of the grave. 

In that long backward glance I saw her clear 
From fogs of gathering night, and all the show 
Of small things that seemed great a while ago. 

Our dreams of fame, the stubborn power we call 
Our self-respect, our hopes of worldly good. 
Our jealousies and fears, how in the flood 

Of this new light they faded, poor and small : 
Showing our pettiness beside God's truth, 
Beside His age our poor, unlearned youth. 

The earth yearns forth, impatient for the days 

Of its maturity, the ample sweets 

Of summer's fulness; and its great heart beats 
With a fierce restlessness, for spring delays 

Seeing her giddy reign end all too soon. 

Her bud-crown ravished by the hand of June. 

And I, — I shall be happy, — promise me 
This one small thing, Beloved, for I long 
For happiness as the caged bird for song: 

Not where four walls close in the melody — 
I want the fresh, sweet air, the waters' gush. 
The strong, sane life with thee, the summer hush. 



A SONG OF DAWN 

In the east a lightening ; 

Where the woods are chill 
Moves an unseen finger, 

Wakes a sudden thrill ; 

In my soul a glimmer, 

Hush! no words are heard! 
In heart-ambush hidden 

Chirrup of a bird; 

Tremble heart and forest 
Like a frightened fawn. 

Gleam the distant tree-tops, 
Hither comes the dawn! 



54 



WEARINESS 

This April sun has wakened into cheer 

The wintry paths of thought, and tinged with gold 
These threadbare leaves of fancy brown and old. 

This is for us the wakening of the year 

And May's sweet breath will draw the waiting soul 
To where in distance lies the longed-for goal. 

The summer life will still all questioning, 

The leaves will whisper peace, and calm will be 
The wild, vast, blue, illimitable sea. 

And we shall hush our murmurings, and bring 
To Nature, green below and blue above, 
A whole life's worshipping, a whole life's love. 

We will not speak of sometime fretting fears, 
We will not think of aught that may arise 
In future hours to cloud our golden skies. 

Some souls there are who love their woes and tears, 
Gaining their joy by contrast, but for thee 
And me, Beloved, peace is ecstasy. 

55 



56 WEARINESS 

It was not always so; there was a time 

When I would choose the rocky mountain way, 
And climb the hills of doubt to find the day. 

Fresh effort brought fresh zest, and winter's rime 
Chilled not but crowned endeavor, and the heat 
Of summer thrilled, and made the pulses beat. 

But now I am so weary that I turn 

From labor with a shudder, and from pain 
As from an enemy; I see no gain 

In suffering, and cleansing fires must burn 
As keenly as desire, so let me know 
Quiet with thee, and twilight's afterglow. 

I who have boasted of my strength and will, 
And ventured daring flights, and stood alone 
In fearless, flushed defiance, I have grown 

Humble, and seek another hand to fill 

Life's cup, and other eyes to pierce the skies 
Of Wisdom's dear, sad, mighty mysteries. 

Ah! I will lie so quiet in thine arms 

I will not stir thee; and thy whisperings 
Shall teach me patience, and so many things 

I have not learned as yet. And all alarms 

Will melt in peace when, safe from tempest's rage, 
My wind-tossed ship has found its anchorage. 



A SONG OF REST 

The world may rage without, 

Quiet is here; 
Statesmen may toil and shout, 

Cynics may sneer; 
The great world — let it go — 
June warmth be March's snow, 
I care not — be it so 

Since I am here. 

Time was when war's alarm 

Called for a fear, 
When sorrow's seeming harm 

Hastened a tear; 
Naught care I now what foe 
Threatens, for scarce I know 
How the year's seasons go 
Since I am here. 

This is my resting-place 

Holy and dear, 
Where Pain's dejected face 

May not appear. 

57 



58 A SONG OF REST 

This is the world to me, 
Earth's woes I will not see, 
But rest contentedly 

Since I am here. 

Is 't your voice chiding, Love, 
My mild career ? 

My meek abiding, Love, 
Daily so near ? 

'* Danger and loss " to me ? 

Ah, Sweet, I fear to see 

No loss but loss of Thee 
And I am here. 



DEATH 

If days should pass without a written word 
To tell me of thy welfare, and if days 
Should lengthen out to weeks, until the maze 

Of questioning fears confused me, and I heard 
Life-sounds as echoes; and one came and said 
After these weeks of waiting: *' He is dead ! " 

Though the quick sword had found the vital part, 
And the life-blood must mingle with the tears, 
I think that, as the dying soldier hears 

The cries of victory, and feels his heart 

Surge with his country's triumph-hour, I could 
Hope bravely on, and feel that God was good. 

I could take up my thread of life again 

And weave my pattern though the colors were 
Faded forever. Though I might not dare 

Dream often of thee, I should know that when 
Death came to thee upon thy lips my name 
Lingered, and lingers ever without blame. 

Aye, lingers ever. Though we may not know 
Much that our spirits crave, yet is it given 
To us to feel that in the waiting Heaven 
59 



6o DEA TH 

Great souls are greater, and if God bestow 
A mighty love He will not let it die 
Through the vast ages of eternity. 

But if some day the bitter knowledge swept 

Down on my life, — bearing my treasured freight 
To founder on the shoals of scorn, — what Fate 

Smiling with awful irony had kept 

Till life grew sweeter, — that my god was clay, 
That 'neath thy strength a lurking weakness lay; 

That thou, whom I had deemed a man of men, 
Faulty, as great men are, but with no taint 
Of baseness, — with those faults that show the saint 

Of after days, perhaps, — wert even then 
When first I loved thee but a spreading tree 
Whose leaves showed not its roots' deformity ; 

I should not weep, for there are wounds that lie 
Too deep for tears; and Death is but a friend 
Who loves too dearly, and the parting end 

Of Love's joy-day a paltry pain, a cry 

To God, then peace, beside the torturing grief 
When honor dies, and trust, and soul's belief. 

Travellers have told that in the Java isles 
The upas-tree breathes its dread vapor out 
Into the air; there needs no hand about 



DEA TH 6l 

Its branches for the poison's deadly wiles 
To work a strong man's hurt, for there is death 
Envenomed, noisome, in his every breath. 

So would I breathe thy poison in my soul, 

Till all that had been wholesome, pure, and true 
Showed its decay, and stained and wasted grew. 

Though sundered as the distant Northern Pole 
From his fair sister, I should bear thy blight 
Upon me as I passed into the night. 

Didst dream thy truth and honor meant so much 
To me. Dear Heart ? Oh! I am full of tears 
To-night, of longing love and foolish fears. 

Would I might see thee, know thy tender touch, 
For Time is long, and though I may not will 
To question Fate, I am a woman still. 



BATTLE SONG 

Clear sounds the call on high: 
To arms and victory! " 
Brave hearts that win or die, 

Dying, may win; 
Proudly the banners wave, 
What though the goal's the grave ? 
Death cannot harm the brave, — 

Through death they win. 

Softly the evening hush 
Stilling strife's maddening rush 
Cools the fierce battle flush, — 

See the day die ; 
A thousand faces white 
Mirror the cold moonlight 
And glassy eyes are bright 

With Victory. 



62 



CONTENT 

I HAVE been wandering where the daisies grow, 
Great fields of tall, white daisies, and I saw 
Them bend reluctantly, and seem to draw 

Away in pride when the fresh breeze would blow 
From timothy and yellow buttercup. 
So by their fearless beauty lifted up. 

Yet must they bend at the strong breeze's will. 
Bright, flawless things, whether in wrath he sweep 
Or, as ofttimes, in mood caressing, creep 

Over the meadows and adown the hill. 
So Love in sport or truth, as Fates allow. 
Blows over proud young hearts and bids them bow. 

So beautiful is it to live, so sweet 

To hear the ripple of the bobolink. 

To smell the clover blossoms white and pink, 
To feel oneself far from the dusty street, 

From dusty souls, from all the flare and fret 

Of living, and the fever of regret. 

I have grown younger; I can scarce believe 
It is the same sad woman full of dreams 
Of seven short weeks ago, for now it seems 
63 



64 CONTENT 

I am a child again, and can deceive 

My soul with daisies, plucking one by one 
The petals dazzling in the noonday sun. 

Almost with old-time eagerness I try 

My fate, and say : " un peu," a soft " beaucoup," 
Then, lower, *' passionement, pas du tout"; 

Quick the white petals fall, and lovingly 

I pluck the last, and drop with tender touch 
The knowing daisy, for he loves me " much." 

I can remember how, in childish days, 

I deemed that he who held my heart in thrall 
Must love me '' passionately " or " not at all." 

Poor little wilful ignorant heart that prays 
It knows not what, and heedlessly demands 
The best that life can give with outstretched hands! 

Now I am wiser, and have learned to prize 
Peace above passion, and the summer life 
Here with the flowers above the ceaseless strife 

Of armed ambitions. They alone are wise 
Who know the daisy-secrets, and can hold 
Fast in their eager hands her heart of gold. 



SEA SONG 

A DASH of spray, 
A weed-browned way, — 
My ship 's in the bay, 
In the glad blue bay, — 
The wind 's from the west 
And the waves have a crest, 
But my bird 's in the nest 
And my ship 's in the bay! 

At dawn to stand 
Soft hand to hand, 
Bare feet on the sand, — 
On the hard brown sand, — 
To wait, dew-crowned, 
For the tarrying sound 
Of a keel that will ground 
On the scraping sand. 

A glad surprise 
In the wind-swept skies 
Of my wee one's eyes, — 
Those wondering eyes. 

5 65 



6S SEA SONG 

He will come, my sweet, 
And will haste to meet 
Those hurrying feet 
And those sea-blue eyes. 

I know the day 
Must weary away, 
And my ship *s in the bay, — 
In the clear, blue bay, — 

Ah! there *s wind in the west, 
For the waves have a crest. 
But my bird 's in the nest 
And my ship's in the bay! 



GRATITUDE 

There are some things, dear Friend, are easier far 
To say in written words than when we sit 
Eye answering eye, or hand to hand close knit. 

Not that there is between us any bar 
Of shyness or reserve ; the day is past 
For that, and utter trust has come at last. 

Only, when shut alone and safe inside 

These four white walls, hearing no sound except 
Our own heart-beatings, silences have crept 

Stealthily round us, — as the incoming tide 
Quiet and unperceived creeps ever on 
Till mound and pebble, rock and reef are gone. 

Or out on the green hillside, even there 

There is a hush, and words and thoughts are still. 
For the trees speak, and myriad voices fill 

With wondrous echoes all the waiting air. 
We listen, and in listening must forget 
Our own hearts' murmur, and our spirits' fret ; 

Even our joys, — thou knowest; — when the air 

Is full to overflowing with the sense 

Of hope fufilled and passion's vehemence 
67 



68 GRA TITUDE 

There is no place for words; we do not dare 

To break Love's stillness, even though the power 
Were ours by speech to lengthen out the hour. 

But here in quietness I can recall 

All I would tell thee, how thou art to me 
Impulse and inspiration, and with thee 

I can but smile though all my idols fall. 
I wait my meed as others who have known 
Patience till to their utmost stature grown. 

As when the heavens are draped in gloomy gray 
And earth is tremulous with a vague unrest 
A glory fills the tender, troubled West 

That glads the closing of November's day, 
So breaks in sun-smiles my beclouded sky 
When day is over and I know thee nigh. 

Thou art so much, all this and more, to me. 
And what am I to thee ? Can I repay 
These many gifts ? Is there no royal way 

Of recompense, so I may proudly see 

The man my heart delights to praise renowned 
For wealth and honor and with rapture crowned ? 

Ah ! though there is no recompense in love 
Yet have I paid thee, given these gifts to thee, 
Joy, riches, worship. Thou hast joy in me, 



GRA TITUDE 69 

Is it not so, Beloved ? Who shall prove 
No worship of thee by my soul confessed ? 
And riches ? Ah ! a wealth of love is best. 



SONG 

I HAVE known a thousand pleasures, — 

Love is best — 
Ocean's songs and forest treasures, 

Work and rest, 
Jewelled joys of dear existence. 
Triumph over Fate's resistance, " 
But to prove, through Time's wide distance, 

Love is best. 



70 



PRAYER 

I STOOD Upon a hill and watched the death 
Of the day's turmoil. Still the glory spread 
Cloud-top to cloud-top, and each rearing head 

Trembled to crimson. So a mighty breath 
From some wild Titan in a rising ire 
Might kindle flame in voicing his desire. 

Soft stirred the evening air, the pine-crowned hills 
Glowed in an answering rapture where the flush 
Grew to a blood-drop ; and the vesper hush 

Moved in my soul, while from my life all ills 
Faded and passed away. God's voice was there 
And in my heart the silence was a prayer. 

There was a day when to my fearfulness 
Was born a joy, when doubt was swept afar 
A shadow and a memory, and a star 

Gleamed in my sky more bright for the distress. 
The stillness breathed thanksgiving, and the air 
Wafted, methought, the incense of a prayer. 

Heaven sets no bounds of bead-roll or appeal ; 
And'when the fiery heart with mute embrace 
Bends, tremblingly, but for a moment's space 
71 



^^2 PR A YER 

It needs no words that cry, no limbs that kneel. 
As meteors flash, so, in a moment's light, 
Life, darting forth, touches the Infinite. 

All my prayers wordless ? Nay, I can recall 
A night not so long past but that each thought 
Lives at this hour, and throbs again unsought 

When Silence broods, and Night's chill shadows fall; 
Then Darkness' thousand pulses thrilled and stirred 
With the dear grace of a remembered word; 

And I was still, thy voice enshrouding me. 

Like the strong sweep of ocean-breath the power 
Of one resistless thought transformed my hour 

Of love-dreams to a fear. All hopelessly 
I knew love's impotence, and my despair 
Stretched soul-hands forth, and quivered to a prayer 

My passionate heart cried out: '' If his dear life 
Through stress of keen temptation merits aught 
Of penance or requital, be it wrought 

Upon 77iy life. If only through the strife 

Is won the peace, through drudgery the gain. 
Give him the issue, and to me the pain! " 

Some day, in our soul's course o'er trackless lands, 
Swayed oft by adverse winds, or swept along 
In Fate's wild current with the fluttering throng 



PRA YER 73 

Toward Sin's engulfing maelstrom, spirit hands 

Will brace our trembling wings, and through the night 
Point and upbear in our last trembling flight. 



SONG 

Red gleams the mountain ridge, 
Slow the stream creeps 

Under the old bent bridge, 
And labor sleeps. 

There are no restless birds, 

No leaves that stir, 
Dusk her gray mantle girds. 

Night's harbinger. 

The storm-soul's change and start 

Pause, lull, and cease; 
In my unquiet heart 

Is born a peace. 



74 



LONELINESS 

Dear, I am lonely, for the bay is still 

As any hill-girt lake; the long brown beach 
Lies bare and wet. As far as eye can reach 

There is no motion. Even on the hill 

Where the breeze loves to wander I can see 
No stir of leaves, nor any waving tree. 

There is a great red cliff that fronts my view 
A bare, unsightly thing; it angers me 
With its unswerving grim monotony. 

The mackerel weir, with branching boughs askew, 
Stands like a fire-swept forest, while the sea 
Laps it, with soothing sighs, continually. 

There are no tempests in this sheltered bay. 
The stillness frets me, and I long to be 
Where winds sweep strong and blow tempestuously, 

To stand upon some hill-top far away 

And face a gathering gale, and let the stress 
Of Nature's mood subdue my restlessness. 

An impulse seizes me, a mad desire 

To tear away that red-browed cliff, to sweep 
Its crest of trees and huts into the deep; 

75 



76 LONELINESS 

To force a gap by axe, or storm, or fire, 
And let rush in with motion glad and free 
The rolling waves of the wild wondrous sea. 

Sometimes I wonder if I am the child 
Of calm, law-loving parents, or a stray 
From some wild gypsy camp. I cannot stay 

Quiet among my fellows ; when this wild 
Longing for freedom takes me I must fly 
To my dear woods and know my liberty. 

It is this cringing to a social law 

That I despise, these changing, senseless forms 
Of fashion ! And until a thousand storms 

Of God's impatience shall reveal the flaw 
In man's pet system, he will weave the spell 
About his heart and dream that all is well. 

Ah ! life is hard, Dear Heart, for I am left 
To battle with my old-time fears alone ; 
I must live calmly on, and make no moan 

Though of my hoped-for happiness bereft. 
Thou wilt not come, and still the red cliff lies 
Hiding my ocean from these longing eyes. 



SEA-SONG 

It sings to me, it sings to me, 

The shore-blown voice of the blithesome sea ! 
Of its world of gladness all untold, 
Of its heart of green, and mines of gold, 

And desires that leap and flee. 

It moans to me, it moans to me. 
The storm-stirred voice of the restless sea ! 
Of the vain dismay and the yearning pain 
For hopes that will never be born again 
From the womb of the wavering sea. 

It calls to me, it calls to me, 

The luring voice of the rebel sea ! 

And I long with a love that is born of tears 
For the wild fresh life, and the glorying fears, 

For the quest and the mystery. 

It wails to me, it wails to me. 

Of the deep, dark graves in the yawning sea ; 

And I hear the voice of a boy that is gone. 

But the lad sleeps sound till the judgment-dawn 
In the heart of the wind-swept sea. 



77 



INCOMPLETENESS 

Since first I met thee, Dear, and long before 
I knew myself beloved, save by the sense 
All women have, a shadowy confidence 

Half-fear, that fee/s its bliss nor asks for more, 
I have learned new desires, known Love's distress. 
Sounded the deepest depths of loneliness. 

I was a child at heart, and lived alone. 

Dreaming my dreams, as children may, at whiles, 
Between their hours of play, and Earth's broad smiles 

Allured my heart, and ocean's marvellous tone 

Woke no strange echoes, and the woods' complain 
Made chants sonorous, stirred no thoughts of pain. 

And if, sometimes, dear Nature spoke to me 
In tones mysterious, I had learned so much. 
Dwelling beside her daily, that her touch 

Made me discerning. Though I might not see 
Her purpose nor her meaning, I had part 
In the proud throbbing of that mighty heart. 

But now the earth has put a tiring-cloth 

About her face; even in the mountains' cheer 

There is a lack, and in the sea a fear, 

78 



INCOMPLETENESS 79 

The glad, rash sea, whose every mood, if wroth 
Or soothing mild, is dear to me as are 
Joy's new-born kisses on the lips of Care. 

Since I have known thee. Dear, all life has grown 
An expectation. As the swelling grain 
Trembles to harvesting, and earth in pain 

Travails till Spring is born, so felt alone 
Is the dumb reaching out of things unborn, 
The night's gray promise of the ampler morn. 

I long to taste my pleasures through thy lips. 
To sail with thee o'er foaming waves and feel 
Our spirits rise together with the reel 

Of waters and the wavering land's eclipse; 
To see thy fair hair damp with salt sea-spray 
And in thine eyes the wildness of the way 

I long to share my woods with thee, to fly 
To some black-hearted forest where the trail 
Of mortals lingers not, — to hear the gale 

Sweep round us with a shuddering ecstasy. 

To feel, night's tumult passed, the cool soft hand 
Of the untroubled dawn move o'er the land. 

To swim with thee far out into the bay, 

A trembling glitter on the waves, the shore 
Glowing with noontide fervor; nevermore 



80 INCOMPLETENESS 

To fear the treacherous depths, though long the way. 
Sweet beyond words the sighs that breathe and blow, 
The moist salt kisses, and the glad warm glow. 

And when the unrest, the vague desires that rush 
Over our lives and may not be denied, — 
Gone in the tasting, — lure us where the tide 

Of men sweeps on, let us forget the hush 
Together, and in city madness drain 
Our cup of pleasure to its dregs of pain. 

Ever I need thee. Incomplete and poor 
This life of mine. Yet never dream my soul 
Craves the old peace. Till I may have the whole 

My joy is my abiding, and what more 

Of dreams and waking bliss the Fates allow 
Comes as a gift of Love's great overflow. 



SONG 

Deep in the green bracken lying, 
Close by the welcoming sea, 

Dream I, and let all my dreaming 
Drift as it will, Love, to thee. 

Sated with splendid caresses 

Showered by the sun in his pride, 

Scorched by his passionate kisses 
Languidly ebbs the tide. 



8i 



LIFE'S JOYS 

I HAVE been pondering what our teachers call 
The mystery of Pain; and lo! my thought 
After its half-blind reaching out has caught 

This truth and held it fast. We may not fall 
Beyond our mounting; stung by life's annoy, 
Deeper we feel the mystery of Joy. 

Sometimes they steal across us like a breath 
Of Eastern perfume in a darkened room, 
These joys of ours; we grope on through the gloom 

Seeking some common thing, and from its sheath 
Unloose, unknowing, some bewildering scent 
Of spice-thronged memories of the Orient. 

Sometimes they dart across our turbid sky 
Like a quick flash after a heated day. 
A moment, where the sombrous shadows lay 

We see a glory. Though it passed us by 

No earthly power can filch that dazzling glow 
From memory's eye, that instant's shine and show. 

Life is so full of joys. The alluring sea, 

This morning clear and placid, may, ere night, 
Toss like a petulant child, and when the light 

82 



LIFE'S JOYS 83 

Of a new morning dawns sweep grand and free 
A mighty power. If fierce, or mild, or bright 
With every tide flows in a fresh delight. 

I can remember well when first I knew 

The fragrance of white clover. There I lay 
On the warm July grass and heard the play 

Of sun-browned insects, and the breezes blew 
To my drowsed sense the scent the blossoms had; 
The subtle sweetness stayed and I was glad. 

Nor passed the gladness. Though the years have gone 
(A many years, Beloved, since that day). 
Whenever by the roadside or away 

In radiant summer fields, wandering alone 
Or with glad children, to my restless sight 
Shows that pale head, comes back the old delight. 

Oh, the dark water and the filling sail! 

The scudding like a sea-mew, with the hand 
Firm on the tiller! See the red-shored land 

Receding, as we brave the hastening gale! 

White gleam the wave-tops, and the breakers' roar 
Sounds thunderingly on the far distant shore. 

This mad hair flying in the breeze blows wild 
Across my face. See, there, the gathering squall, 
That dark line to the eastward, watch it crawl 



84 LIFE'S JOYS 

Stealthily towards us o'er the snow-wreaths piled 
Close on each other! Ah, what joyto be 
Drunk with salt air, in battle with the sea! 

So many joys, and yet I have but told 
Of simple things, the joys of air and sea! 
Not all these things are worth one hour with thee, 

One moment, when thy daring arms enfold 
My body, and all other, meaner joys 
Fade from me like a child's forgotten toys. 

One thought is ever with me, glorying all 

Life's common aims. Surely will dawn a day 
Bright with an unknown rapture, when thy way 

Will be tny journey-road, and I can call 

These joys our joys, for thou wilt walk with me 
Down budding pathways to the abounding sea. 



SONG 

Low laughed the Columbine, 
Trembled her petals fine 

As the breeze blew; 
In her dove-heart there stirred 
Murmurs the dull bee heard, 
And Love, life's wild white bird, 

Straightway she knew. 

Resting her lilac cheek 
Gently, in aspect meek. 

On the gray stone. 
The morning-glory, free. 
Welcomed the yellow bee, 
Heard the near-rolling sea 

Murmur and moan. 

Calm lay the tawny sand 
Stretching a long wet hand 

To the far wave. 
Swift to her waiting breast 
Longing to be possessed 
Leaps 'neath his billowy crest 

Her Lover brave. 



85 



BARTER 

There is a long thin line of fading gold 
In the far west, and the transfigured leaves 
On some slight, topmost bough that sways and heaves 

Hang limp and tremulous. Nor warm, nor cold 
The pungent air, and, 'neath the yellow haze, 
Show flushed and glad the wild October ways. 

There is a soft enchantment in the air, 
A mystery the Summer knows not, nor 
The sturdy, frost-crowned -Winter. Nature wore 

Her blandest smile to-day, as here and there 
I wandered, elf-beset, through wood and field 
And gleaned the glories of the autumn yield. 

A bunch of purple aster, golden rod 

Darkened by the first frost, a drooping spray 
Of scarlet barberry, and tall and gray 

The silk-cored cotton with its bursting pod. 
Some tarnished maple-boughs, and, like a flash 
Of sudden fiame, a branch of mountain ash. 

She smiled, but it was not the welcoming smile 

Of frank surrender. As a witching maid 

In gorgeous garments cunningly arrayed 

86 



BARTER 87 

Might smile and draw them closer, hers the guile 
To let men hope, pray, labor in love's stress 
Ere they her hidden beauties may possess. 

Deep in the heart of earth where the springs rise, 
Down with the sweet linnsea and the moss. 
In the brown thrush's throat, where the pines toss 

In winter's harrying storms her secret lies. 

Ours the chill night-dews and the waiting pain 
Ere we her fairy wealth may hope to gain. 

'T is so with knowledge. Eagerly we turn 

Great wisdom's page, and when our clear eyes grow 
Dim in the dusk of years, and heads bend low 

Weary at last, the truth we strove to learn 
Is ours forever. But its joy of sight 
Is dearly bought, methinks, with youth's delight. 

Fate, too, with chaffering voice and beckoning hand 
Doles out our happiness; we snatch at wealth 
And pay with anxious care and fading health. 

We call for love, and dream that we shall stand 
On ground enchanted, but, though sweet the way. 
The rocks are sharp, and grief comes with the day. 

Even in love, Dear Heart, there is exchange 
Of gifts and griefs, and so I render thee 
Vows for thy vows, and pay unfalteringly 



88 BARTER 

What love demands, nor ever deem it strange. 

And when the snow drifts fast, and north winds sting, 
I make no murmur, but await the Spring. 



SONG 

Joy came in youth as a humming-bird, 

(Sing hey ! for the honey and bloom of life !) 
And it made a home in my summer bower 
With the honeysuckle and the sweet-pea flower. 
(Sing hey ! for the blossoms and sweets of life !) 

Joy came as a lark when the years had gone, 

(Ah ! hush, hush still, for the dream is short !) 
And I gazed far up to the melting blue 
Where the rare song dropped like a golden dew. 
(Ah ! sweet is the song tho' the dream be short !) 

Joy hovers now in a far-off mist, 

(The night draws on and the air breathes snow !) 
And I reach, sometimes, with a trembling hand 
To the red-tipped cloud of the joy-bird's land. 

(Alas ! for the days of the storm and the snow !) 



89 



TO-MORROW 

But one short night between my Love and me! 

I watch the soft-shod dusk creep wistfully 

Through the slow-moving curtains, pausing by 
And shrouding with its spirit-fingers free 

Each well-known chair. There is a growing grace 

Of tender magic in this little place. 

Comes through half-opened windows, soft and cool 
As Spring's young breath, the vagrant evening air. 
My day-worn soul is hushed. I fain would bear 

No burdens on my brain to-night, no rule 

Of anxious thought; the world has had my tears, 
My thoughts, my hopes, my aims these many years; 

This is thy hour, and I shall sink to sleep 
With a glad weariness, to know that when 
The new day dawns I shall lay by my pen 

Needed no more. If I, perchance, should weep 
A few quick tears, so doing, who would guess 
'T was the last throb of my soul's loneliness ? 

Not even thou, Dear Heart, canst ever know 

How I have yearned these many months, these years, 

For love, for thee. As the calm boatman steers 
90 



TO-MORROW 91 

His slender shallop where he fain would go, 
Tempests and rocks before, so through the dark 
To this dim, far-off day has set my bark. 

To-morrow! I can hear the quick-closed door, 

The approaching steps, my pained heart's fluttering, 
Thy voice, then thee! And all the storm and sting 

Of bygone griefs are passed for evermore. 
Swept from my life as the resistless wind 
Scatters the chaff, nor leaves a mote behind. 

As long-imprisoned captives reach the light, 
And gaze with greedy eyes on field and tree, 
Drinking the beauties of the sky and sea 

Half fearful of their bliss, so from the night 

Of dreams and shades, half doubting, we awake 
And grasp the joy we almost fear to take. 

Thou hidest in thy warm ones my cold hand, 
Reading my soul in these unwavering eyes. 
Nay, thou hast known my hopes, my agonies 

Through written words, and thou canst understand. 
I have kept nothing back of all the streams 
Of my heart-flowings — doubts, nor fears, nor dreams. 

So long my life has followed no control 

But mine own impulse; now, I pray thee, bend 
My will to thine, and so, unhindered, tend 



92 TO'MORRO W 

My soul's wild garden. I have laid the whole 
Bare to thy sowing; and life's precious wine 
Is of thy pouring, and thy way is mine. 



SONG 

Where is the waiting-time ? 

Where are the fears ? 
Gone with the winter's rime, 

The bygone years. 

O'er life's plain, lone and vast, 

Slow treads the morn, 
Night shades have moved and passed, 

Joy's day is born. 



93 



NATURE POEMS 



95 



AT EBB 

A LULL in the fitful fever of the year. 

A day of stillness. O'er the sleeping pools 
The darting swallow flickers on the wing 
Catching her image. Where the cliff-side cools 
A thousand quiet rivulets find the sea. 
The towering mountain frowns immovably 
Waiting the darkness; for the wild birds sing 
Her forest follies when the dawn is near. 

The madcap sea has donned a robe of gray, 
Playing the nun. Wide-eyed and innocent 

She lies, a fitting patience in her mien. 
When in the day's deploy her mood is spent 

How she will fling the mumming garment by, 
And joy to give her wild tempestuous cry. 
And bathe her white arms in the sunlight's sheen, 
And mock the shore beguiled by her mad play. 

Far off a hoarse gull screams; from out the bush 
Of tangled alders sail white-breasted birds 

Winnowing seaward; and along the beach 
Runs the sandpiper. Strange, unuttered words 
97 



98 AT EBB 

Lurk in the cryptal quiet of the wind. 
Where the fog's fumid curtain is unpinned 
Earth waits the birth-throe. Far as eye can reach 
There is no shudder in the noonday hush. 

I am of thee, O patient, smiling earth ! 
I am thy sister, O thou changing sea! 

I bring my full-grown sorrow to thine ears, 
O brooding mother ! and the mystery 

Of worn-out passions to thine endless calm. 
Against thy cool glad face my fevered palm, 
On thy sweet sod my fruitless, satiate tears. 
There, too, my mad remembrances of mirth. 



THE TURNING OF THE TIDE 

Green and glad the mysteries 

Of the woodland sheen and shade, 

And the thousand gleaming eyes 
Of the daisies in the glade. 

Towards the hoar wave-beaten rock 
Creeps the tireless, stealthy sea. 

Stern her voice, and rude the shock, 
Yet he will not quake nor flee. 

West the blue horizon line 

Fades into an opal dream. 
And the smoke-wreaths curl and twine 

Like a wandering mountain stream. 

Fresh and sweet the sea-blown gale. 
Cool the fogs that close and cling. 

White the chaff that flies the flail 
In great ocean's winnowing. 

Mine the sight, but not the sense; 

I have grown a thing apart; 
Gone the old sweet confidence, 

And the unison of heart. 
99 

LOFC. 



100 THE TURNING OF THE TIDE 

And I stretch my eager hands 
Calling to the vast unknown: 

'* Give me back my dream-tide lands, 
And my dear, deserted throne ! 

Take the things the heart has craved. 
Gained, and hoarded for a space, 

Sweets of fears my soul has braved, 
And the glory of a face ; 

Unnamed gladnesses of night, 

Joys of wine, and warmth, and love, 

All my memories of delight, 

All my power to hold and move ; 

Give me back the unsung ways. 
My wild kinship with the wind ; 

And the dear, deep-hearted days 
I have left so far behind. 

Let me hear the lonely rune 
Of the wind-birds in the west, 

Hear the ocean-mother croon 
To the darlings at her breast ; 

Know that they and I have part 
In all things that are, or seem, 

In the universal Heart 

And the interminable Dream. 



THE TURNING OF THE TIDE lOI 

Soft against the cooling sand 

Presses close the scarlet cheek; 
From the spirit's listless hand 

Slip the gains that toilers seek ; 

Sounds of surf-beat in my ears, 

On my hair the wind's impress ; 
And I know the bygone years, 

And the old childheartedness. 



THE MEANING OF THE BIRD SONG 

A DESERT of weary gray; 

The endless wash on the shore ; 
Foam of an aeon of fret and fray 

Flung on the floor. 

Shudder of laboring life, 

Quiver of nesting birds ; 
Sombre the mantle of ceaseless strife 

That daylight girds. 

Ah, listen ! Soft and low, 

Joys, darting, lift and sink, 
Soft wilding waters that fall and flow, 

The bobolink! 

Gladness of summer rain, 

Wild songs of shore and sod ; 
Over the swelling summer grain 

The hands of God. 

Winds* will and ocean's roar, 

Red cliff and dewy haze. 
The growl of the surf on the distant shore, 

Morn's blues and grays ; 



THE MEANING OF THE BIRD SONG 103 

And the chime of impatient bells. 

See the breeze ruffle the lake ! 
And the drowsy day trembles through the dells, — 

The world is awake ! 

Pink palms and dimpled feet ; 

Rosy mouth, dewy pressed, 
Soft wandering, seeks the sweet 

Of Mother's breast. 

Proud power of unsated strength. 

Staunch spars and sails unfurled, 
Joy in the leagues of earth's unknown length, 

The will of a world. 

Deep in the seedless sand, 

Through dirges of the pine. 
In the fierce strength of the ploughman's hand 

A mote divine. 

Slumbers the silent sod 

Waiting the spark, the ray. 
Deep in the heart of the formless pod 

A dream of Day. 

Clear flame of golden fire, 

Heaven's flash the soul has caught; 
Far on the mount of the heart's desire 

The throne of Thought. 



104 "^^^ MEANING OF THE BIRD SONG 

Glad life of lessons learned, 

Sweet love to teach and tend; 
And the altars of stone where the self has burned. 

The strife is at end. 

Love, and a great desire, — 

The urging of homeward waves; 
And high on the mountain the dome of fire 

O'er the quiet caves. 



THE SOUL 

Enshrouded in a veil of morning mist 

The great cliff stands. About her base the waves 
Beat ceaselessly, and the wild north-wind raves 

And the gray sea-gulls hover as they list. 

There is no dream of fellowship, nor fear, 
In that great isolation. From the sea 
Wash through the mighty caves of mystery 

The gems of silence. Crystalline and clear 

Her summit's ether. Where the sweet rills run 
Her steadfast bosom fronts the rising sun. 



105 



SLACK TIDE 

My boat is still in the reedy cove 

Where the rushes hinder its onward course, 

For I care not now if we rest or move 

O'er the slumbrous tide to the river's source. 

My boat is fast in the tall dank weeds, 

And I lay my oars in silence by, 
And lean and draw the sHppery reeds 

Through my listless fingers carelessly. 

The bubbling froth of the surface foam 

Clings close to the side of my moveless boat 

Like endless meshes of honeycomb, — 
And I break it off, and send it afloat. 

A faint wind stirs, and I drift along 

Far down the stream to its utmost bound, 
And the thick white foam-flakes, gathering strong, 
Still cling, and follow, and fold around. 

Oh! the weary green of the weedy waste, 
The thickening scum of the frothy foam, 

And the torpid heart by the reeds embraced 
And shrouded and held in its cheerless home. 
io6 



SLACK TIDE loy 

The fearful stillness of wearied calm. 



The tired quiet of ended strife, 
The echoed note of a heart's sad psalm, 
The sighing end of a wasted life. 

The reeds cling close, and my cradle sways, 
And the white gull dips in the waters' barm, 

But the heart asleep in the twilight haze 
Feels not its earth-bonds, knows not alarm. 



PICTURES 

I. 

The full-orbed Pascal moon ; dark shadows flung 
On the brown Lenten earth ; tall spectral trees 
Stand in their huge and naked strength erect 
And stretch wild arms toward the gleaming sky. 
A motionless girl-figure, face upraised 
In the strong moonlight, cold and passionless. 

II. 

November's day, dark, leaden, lowering. 

Gray, purple shadows fading on the hills ; 

Dreary and desolate the far expanse 

And gloomy sameness of the open plain. 

A peasant woman, in white wimpled hood, 

White vest, and scarlet petticoat, surveys 

The meadow, with rough hands crossed on her breast. 

III. 

A shining, shimmering, gracious golden day, 
Fair sated summer's all-pervading hush, 
Warm, luscious tints glowing in earth and sky. 
On a low mossy bank, a little child, 
io8 



PICTURES 109 

His golden curls twined in the reedy grass, 
Clutching within his tiny feverish hands 
The yellow blossoms of the celandine, 
Sobs out his heart in passionate childish grief. 

IV. 

A proud spring sunset ; opal-tinted sky, 
Save where the western purple, pale and faint 
With longing for her fickle love, content 
Had merged herself into his burning red. 
A fair young maiden, clad in velvet robe 
Of sombre green, stands in the golden glow 
One hand held up to shade her dazzled eyes, 
A bunch of white narcissus at her throat. 



NARRATIVE POEMS 



III 



lOLE 

O'er the Euboean hills the purple light 
Of dawning day wakens to roseate glow. 
The earth is cold beneath me, and the dew 
Lies heavy on these coils of yellow hair 
That twine among the grasses. Now awake 
The young birds, and the reptiles, and the earth 
Is glad because another day is born. 
I know not well how many hours have fled 
Since first I came here, days or years maybe, 
I know not, — I have lost my count of time 
And know no life but only misery. 
The pallor of thy waters, O thou son 
Of courtly Ceres, Acheron the dread, 
Draws on my soul, my waking soul, to death. 
O fair ^chalia, whose rich verdant vales 
Lie ever in the sunshine, where the earth 
Rejoices in the smile of mighty Zeus, 
Full many flocks graze on thy wooded slopes, 
O fruitful meadow ! Thou hast never known 
The wrath of fierce Hephaestos, heaving up 
The earth at will, and laying waste the land. 
For gods and men have smiled on thee, and left 
8 113 



1 14 lOLE 

Thee peaceful as the flying years revolve. 

They brought me hither while the curling smoke 

Of ^ta's burning pile did darken heaven. 

And it was well ; here can I lie and gaze 

On the green fields of happy childhood, feel 

The dry air cool my temples, and the soft 

Fresh moisture of the grasses heal my pain. 

Here may I weep with none to say me nay, 

My maids are banished. If they, quiet, wait 

In the dark thicket yonder for my call 

That will not come, or if they guess my thought, 

And watch me not, I know not; my desire 

Is but for solitude, such solitude 

As soothes the soul, the speech of these my hills. 

My grief flows into words, not as at first 
When in the morning of my pain I strove 
To give it voice, and failed, and burning tears 
Did scald my heart but left my eyelids dry. 
As when a stream checked in its early flow 
But gathers strength, and roars in torrents down 
O'er knoll and bush, flooding the mountain side 
With foaming cataracts, — so my pent-up tide 
Of tears and words gush out, flow forth, and so 
Will not be stayed. 

It was a glorious day 
Of sunlight splendor and warm whispering 



lOLE 1 15 

Of scented leaves, when, in the August blaze 
Standing with form erect and proud of mien 
A clustered heap of glossy raven curls 
Crowning the brow, now dark and lined with rage, 
Saw I the godlike Theban. How his eyes, 
Dusky as night, flashed out in anger fierce 
As treacherously my father broke his bond! 
Proud Eurytus, the skilled with bow and spear, 
Challenged the world to contest, offering me, 
His only daughter, lole, as prize. 
And when great Herakles, loved of the gods, 
Was named the victor, and his burning eyes 
Looked into mine, in pride of mastery, 
I turned away that I might hide my love, 
For he had roused in me a woman's soul. 
Then did the wrath of Eurytus leap up. 
And with fierce eye he gazed on Herakles, 
For till that day all men had bowed before 
His mighty prowess. Stern and rough as wind 
Of winter blast his speech, as Herakles 
He bade depart, nor hope to touch the hand 
Of white-browed lole. The sky grew dark, 
The lilies faded, and the pine-trees wept. 
Gone was my sometime pride. Aloud I prayed 
My father's mercy, but he heeded not. 
Then anguish filled my soul, for love had come 
And touched me, and I bowed beneath his hand. 



Il6 I OLE 

Forth went my maddened lover, and I knew 

The years would sometime bring him back to me. 

Full many months I languished, as a dove 

With broken wing, and wept my misery 

To these dark pines, that give back sigh for sigh. 

One solace had I still, — the tender care 

Of Iphitus, my brother. Him I took 

As mother, sister, friend, for he had read 

My sorrow's heart with sympathy and love. 

He did beseech my father, not as one 

Who pleads for favors, but as he who knows 

Where lies the right, — but evermore in vain. 

Oh, Iphitus, whose tender head did lie 

Last on our mother's bosom, 't was the hand 

Of madness murdered where the heart did love! 

Well do I mind the day of evil chance 

When o'er the hills, the distant, blue-lined hills, 

My brother and the injured Herakles 

Journeyed as friends. Autolycus, the thief, 

Quickly surrendered up my father's droves. 

The mighty oxen of Boeotian vales. 

So dreaded he the wrath of Herakles. 

But ere day fled, and Iphitus' fair face 

Was homeward turned, a madness, born of hate 

For Eurytus, o'erpowered the conqueror's soul; 

He gazed at Iphitus, and knew him not 

Save as his father's son; so rushed he on 



10 LE 117 

His friend, and slew him. When the burning tide 
Of madness turned, and Herakles looked down 
Upon the body of the murdered one, 
The fever left him, and he fled for grief 
Off to the wilderness. 

Again the years 
Swept on, and on one radiant summer morn 
I heard, from where I lay, mid grass and fern, 
In dreams of love and Herakles, a sound 
Of clashing arms, and fierce, contesting cries. 
I trembled not, for in my veins there stirs 
The blood of kings, and I could look on death, — 
Mayhap to overtake me, — without fear. 
Some foe, I knew, was in my father's house, 
And there I proudly stood, and tearlessly, 
To see the end. The lilies in my hand 
Dropped to the ground, and covered all the place 
Where I had lain, the fair, white blossoms soon 
To feel, perchance, my warm blood on their stems. 
Even while I thought, the sounds grew faint and few, 
And steps drew near. With head erect and firm 
I waited calmly. 

As in some blest dream 
I saw him come, my kingly man of men. 
Great Herakles! Bare-headed, proud, he stood 
And spake to me. His words were wonderful 
In sweetness as in power, and all my heart 



Il8 10 LE 

Went out to him, and owned his sovereignty. 

We spake of Iphitus, and all the grief 

Flooding my soul was hushed to calm the force 

Of Herakles' despair, for he had loved 

The man he slew with passing tenderness. 

The lime-trees moved, and moving, seemed to speak 

Of future joy. The happy birds that thronged 

The bushes rich with blossom told their tales 

Of love in silvery monotone, and led 

Our speech to kisses, and were satisfied. 

Then followed days of joy, such joy as few 
But the immortals know. I asked for naught 
But one dear presence, knew no bliss or pain, 
No happiness or grief the gods could send. 
Save his alone, my hero and my king ! 
The long, deep, luscious, summer-breathing days 
Melted to evening e'er our hearts could count 
One hour of weariness. The mighty one 
Would lay aside his weapons with his frown. 
And wander with me through the grassy dales, 
Or lie, in still content, beside some stream 
Of silver water, sparkling in the sun, 
And swear by all the gods that lole 
Was fairer than fair Aphrodite's self. 
I saw myself grow fair beneath his touch; 
The roses of the meadow, crimson-hued, 



I OLE 119 

Blushed in my cheeks, and the long, sunny hours 

Brought vigor to my limbs, and lit mine eye. 

So passed our days, till, as we journeyed on, 

With slow but happy steps, great ^ta's height 

Fronted our vision. Far behind us lay 

The fair Boeotian valleys ; far behind, 

Too far for sight, the dear Euboean shore. 

The black brows of Parnassus darkly loomed 

Upon our right, and ^Eta's majesty 

Rose high above us. Here great Herakles 

Would stay to offer of his ample spoil 

A sacrifice to Zeus. My heart was light 

As morning, and I did array myself 

In gorgeous dress, to honor Herakles. 

Ere yet the appointed solemn hour drew nigh 

The mighty hero ordered Lichas forth 

To near Trachinia, thence to fetch a robe 

Of proper state to offer sacrifice. 

Until that hour, no thought of aught but good, 

Through the short, joyous days, and blessed nights, 

Had come to me, but now a shadow crept 

Over my rapture, for I thought of her, 

The daughter of GEneus, who did wait 

For Herakles with jealous soul and wild. 

Thereat Trachinia waited she, and scarce 

The thought of her came to my burning heart 

Ere I was tortured with a mad desire 



120 10 LE 

To slay her with my two strong hands, to crush 
Her hated life out who had known his love. 
Then did my Theban soothe me, murmuring low 
Sweet words of tenderness, and stopped my speech 
With wild, warm kisses, and I was content. 
For he had loved me first, before the face 
Of Dejeneira rose before his eyes, 
And now his heart was mine. I was content. 

fair ^chalia, O green meadow lands, 
Glad flocks that feed upon the hills, I see 
You all, yet heed you not, nor know your joy ! 
Fleet Lichas brought from her the fatal robe. 
The gift of Dejeneira, whose fell power 

She knew not, or, in knowing, did mistake. 
In jealous fear she took a traitor's word, 
And, deeming that some mystic potency 
Dwelt in the garment to retain his love. 
Sent Nessus' shirt to cover Herakles. 
Still, all unheeding danger, near or far, 

1 waited for my hero in the tent, 

And smiled to think how he would love me more 
And praise my beauty when he came to me. 
For I had donned a splendid dress of state 
And through its beauty found myself more fair. 

Sudden a cry rang out, a fearful sound, 



I OLE i2I 

As of a god in mortal agony. 
And still it grew, and spread, and echoed far 
Across the plain. And rushed I madly forth 
To know the cause. 

Great Herakles the brave, 
He who had done such wild, prodigious feats 
That the gods marvelled, there close-gripped he lay 
With his last enemy, relentless Fate. 
Up by the roots great trees of giant growth 
He tore in frenzy. Dejeneira's gift 
Had done its work. The Lernian Hydra's blood 
Burned quick and deep as irons heated white 
In wooden columns. Mad with fear I ran 
And strove to approach him, but he drove me back 
That I might witness not his agony. 
I fell where I had stood an hour before 
In pride of youth and love, as one that died. 
And then they tended me, who loathed my life. 
And watched the breath I longed to stifle out, 
And brought me here, back to my childhood's home. 
When all was over. They have told me how 
The hero died, — how lying on his pyre 
On ^ta's mount, and leaning on his club, 
The skin of the Nemean lion spread 
Beneath his form, his mighty voice rang out. 
And ordered Philoctetes' hand to fire 
The funeral pile, — so his life burned away. 



122 lOLE 

O babbling brook, why fling thy cooling drops 
On the green sward, who brought no pain's respite 
To burning Herakles ? Green herbs that grow 
Sweet in the thicket, where your potency 
If you could bring no hour's relief to him? 
Nay, I myself, oh, wherefore was I born 
If I, with all my love and strong desire, 
Could not, by drops of blood or streams of tears, 
Bring him one moment's sweet, consoling rest. 

Vile Nessus, fitting offspring of thy sire, 

The lustful, base Ixion, if my hate 

May follow thee through Tartarus, and bring 

The curse I pray the gods to consummate, 

Then may the blackness of great night that reigns 

O'er the sad shades be doubly black to thee. 

May the great, sulphurous flood of Phlegethon 

Burn thee devouringly, till thou dost know 

A thousand times the woe of Herakles ! 

O Herakles, king of a thousand fights. 

Here for thy dying breaks one woman's heart ! 

The valleys hear my plaint, the sobbing pines 
Echo my sighing, and the mighty oaks 
Bend down to listen to my woeful tale. 
The air blows sweet, but o'er my tired soul 
No sleep may steal, to anodyne my pain. 



lOLE 123 

Bright day has dawned, to bring to some, perchance, 

Sweet hours of joy, such hours as lole 

Will never know. The woods wail " Herakles'! ' 

The valleys answer, and the lily-buds 

Bend their proud heads, and whisper " Herakles ! " 



UWE 

There is tempest in the offing where the north winds 

rage and roar, 
And the storm-king's winter madness scatters snow- 
wreaths on the shore ; 
And the nestling, hill-bound village wraps its children 

in its arms, — 
It has known the ocean sorrow, it has borne the sea's 

alarms. 
There are sons who may be tossing near some distant 

reef to-night, 
There are fathers steering homeward watching for the 

headland light. 
In their beds the women shudder, and the men move 

restlessly. 
And they murmur through their dreaming : " God be 

good to those at sea ! " 
See the dawn creep through the windows, — surely calm 

will come with day. 
But the bitter gale is raging, and the sky is wrapt in 

gray. 

Hark! a sound above the tempest, booming through the 

breakers* roar, 

124 



UWE 



125 



And the sleepers start to waking, — they have heard that 

sound before ! 
There are brave and stalwart seamen in that village by 

the sea, 

Men with rough and toil-scarred faces, but old ocean's 
energy. 

** Man the lifeboat ! Where is Harro ? We must go 

without our chief. 
Save the men that need our succor, dying there on 

yonder reef! '* 
Sixteen brawny arms and ready launch the lifeboat on 

the tide, 
Through the biting sleet and breakers reach the fated 

vessel's side. 
'Mid the wild waves' mighty tossing they are lifted one 

by one. 
Twenty numbed, despairing seamen, till the rescue work 

is done. 
There is one poor freezing creature lashed high on a 

bending mast, 
But the boat is full to sinking, and the storm is rising fast. 
Swift the lifeboat's bow is pointed with the distant shore 

for goal; 
" He must stay," the boatswain muttered, " Father God 

be with his soul! " 
Through the icy spray and billows, with the sleet-stones 

driving fast. 



126 UWE 

With a wild triumphant shouting they have reached the 

shore at last. 
"Good! My gallant men! " cries Harro, " all are here 

whom death had claimed. 
By your swift and ready rescue you may know your 

leader shamed." 
" One was left," says Jan, the boatswain, " he was frozen 

to the mast, 
It was his poor life or ours "; and his voice died on the 

blast. 
"We must save this man! " cries Harro: " Who will 

brave the storm with me ? " 
But no voice returns him answer, for their looks are on 

the sea. 
" Harro, son," a woman falters ; " by a mother's love and 

tears 
Stay, nor leave me lone and sorrowing to go mourning al 

my years. 
I have given home and husband to the wild remorseless 

sea, 
And I doubt not it has taken our long-looked-for, lost 

Uwe. 
Only you are left to comfort ; if you venture forth to-day 
You may find a corpse out yonder, and I lose my only 

stay. 
For your mother's sake, my Harro ! " but he answers 

quick and bold : 



UWE 127 

" Can I see a fellow-being die in terror and in cold ? 
And our lives are in God's keeping ; it may be some 

mother's prayer 
For the life of yon poor creature wearies an almighty 

ear." 
Swift is launched the sturdy lifeboat, and four eager 

fearless men 
With their leader brave the perils of the rescue once 

again. 
From the shore the anxious watchers see the lifeboat 

dip and rise, 
And they gasp when it is hidden a brief instant from 

their eyes : 
" It is gone ! No ! There ! I see it ! Ah ! they near the 

ship at last ! " 
And the mother stills her anguish though the tears are 

falling fast. 
They have neared the fated vessel, they have cut away 

the strands. 
And the poor, half-frozen creature falls to Harro's ten- 
der hands. 
In the boat one lies unconscious, while the other bends 

above 
Till his straining, anxious fellows marvel at the man 

they love. 
He nor speaks, nor moves, nor hears them as they call 

his name aloud. 



128 UWE 

Till the shore is quickly nearing and he sees the waiting 

crowd; 
Then he stands and shouts exultant, with his fair curls 

blowing free : 
" Tell my mother that we *ve saved him, that we 've 

saved the lost Uwe ! " 
And the great waves roll and thunder on the Schleswig's 

rocky shore. 
And a brave ship's sodden timbers lie along the ocean 

floor; 
But wherever hearts are saddened by the sorrows of the 

sea 
Lives the tale of Harro's courage and the rescue of 

Uwe. 



EURYDICE 

Oh, come, Eurydice ! 

The Stygian deeps are past 
Well-nigh; the day dawns fast ; 

Oh, come, Eurydice ! 

The gods have heard my song ! 

My love's despairing cry 

Filled hell with melody, 
And the gods heard my song. 

I knew no life but thee. 

Persephone was moved ; 

She, too, hath lived, hath loved. 
She saw I lived for thee. 

I may not look on thee, 
Such was the gods' decree. 
Till sun and earth we see 

No kiss, no smile for thee ! 

The way is rough, is hard, 

I cannot hear thy feet 

Swift following. Speak, my Sweet, 

Is the way rough and hard ? 
9 129 



I30 EURYDICE 

Oh, come, Eurydice ! 
I turn; our woe is o'er, 
I will not lose thee more. 

I cry : " Eurydice ! " 

Father Hertnes, help ! 
I see her fade away, 

Back from the dawning ray. 
Dear Father Hermes, help ! 

One swift look — all is lost ! 
Wild heaven-arousing cries 
Pierce to the dull, dead skies. 

My heaven — my all is lost! 

The unrelenting gods 

Refuse me. ** No," say they; 
" Thy chance is thrown away." 

Fierce, unrelenting gods ! 

The sky is blue no more, 

The spring-tide airs are bleak; 
I find not her I seek. 

The world is fair no more. 

1 loathe all earth — all life. 
These Thracian women gaze, 
And, whispering, go their ways. 

Seeing I loathe my life. 



EURYDICE 131 



Only my song remains. 

I may not cease to sing, 

Though hot tears start and sting, 
The song that still remains, 

Even: ''Come, Eurydice ! " 
The sea rolls on in pain, 
Echoing the note again: 

Lost, lost Eurydice ! " 

And still the sea moves on. 

The woods give back the thrill, 
" Eurydice ! " and still 

The quiet sea moves on. 

The years, Eurydice — 
The long, unquiet years — 
Heed not or sighs or tears, 

O Heart, Eurydice ' 



BLAMELESS 

She felt a touch of genuine pity rise 

And for an instant dim those wondrous eyes; 

For, as he lay there, happy, at her feet. 
Thinking the world so fair, and love so sweet, 

She knew, more wise than he, the coming gloom 
That soon must end his bliss and shroud his doom. 

She, leaning, said: "Why waste the precious hours 
In fancies vain, o'er quickly fading flowers ? 

" Soon will the vision melt, and die away 
In the dim shadows of the waning day. 

"As you love liberty and life and good 
So trust not to a woman's changeful mood. 

" Know you, to souls like yours I can but bring 
Evil, and pain, and blind heart-sorrowing? " 

She laid her hand soft on his golden head; 
" Go! while there yet is time, " she gently said. 

With upturned face he answered; slow and clear 
The words fell on the tranquil evening air. 
132 



BLAMELESS 1 33 

" If I could know that, vampire-like, you drew 
My life-blood daily from me; if I knew 

** That just one drop of vital force remained, 
And I might leave you, life and freedom gained, 

"I should not move, but, striving to compress 
In that brief hour a lifetime's happiness, 

" Would give with one last pang of ecstasy 
Even that drop, as you required, and die! " 

The sunset glow haloed her queenly head. 
" Ah, well, so be it then," she. lightly said. 



CHILD POEMS AND SONGS. 



135 



WHOSE CHILDREN ? 

[Lines written for one of the New York dailies in the interest of a 
fund for the child-victims of the Galveston flood disaster,] 

O WOMEN vested in silver, O women bred to the light, 
Hear ye the weeping of women piercing the stillness of 

night ? 
Ye who have pleasures and plenty, is there no vibrant 

breath 
Brought to your homes of fulness fresh from the homes 

of death ? 

O woman, proud of your womanhood, deep in your soul 

there stirs 
(Maiden or mother, it wots not) hope that the heart 

avers, 
Hope that makes tender and holy, hope that love's joy 

makes true, 
Visions of little children stretching their arms to you. 

By the great law that holds you mothers forevermore — 
Though to your heart's great longing never a child you 

bore — 
Hark to the children's crying, mark you the tears they 

shed, 

137 



138 WHOSE CHILDREN? 

Helpless they cry to the helper, hungry they cry to the 
fed. 

Mothers who croon to your babies, slumber your hearts 

at rest 
Tending your well-fed darlings, smoothing each downy 

nest, 
While in a stricken city, under the vault of blue. 
Hundreds of hapless children call from their pain to 

you? 

Listen, ye great-heart mothers, hasten to dry the tears ; 
Never did plaint of children fall on unheeding ears. 
Love in its great enfolding mirrors a truth divine — 
That in their need and weakness these babies are yours 
and mine ! 



LINES 

TO A LITTLE GIRL WHO ASKED FOR A POEM " ABOUT 
SPRING, AND THE SUN, AND THE FLOWERS " 

What can I tell you of spring, Sweetheart, 

Spring with its freshness and mirth? 
You are yourself but a part of the spring, 
Bubbling with life and the song the birds sing, 
Full of earth's youth with its fervor and fling, 
One with the season's birth. 

What can I tell you of flowers. Sweetheart, 

Perfume and form and hue ? 
All these long years I have sought to know 
Just how they color, and grow and blow ; 
You are their mate, and they whisper low 

Secrets to such as you. 

What can I sing of the sunshine, Dear ? 

Shadows that come and go. 
Flecking the path of the young and old, 
These have I known as the years grew cold. 
You must know only the warmth and the gold, 

Gladness and summer's glow. 
139 



I40 LINES 

Spring-time, and flowers, and sunshine, Dear, 

Laughter, and kiss, and song; 
Gazing untroubled o'er seas and lands 
Old Mother Nature forever stands, 
Holding her gifts in her ample hands ; 

These to thy life belong. 



SEA-HORSES 

Oh, I heard them tramping, tramping, 
And their furious fiery stamping, 

And I cowered from the curtain though I listened 
eagerly; 
By the darkness dazed and thwarted 
How they raged and plunged and snorted 

Through the mighty shadowed forest that in daylight 
is the sea! 

But this morning they are prancing. 
Silver hoofs and white manes dancing. 
As I lie upon the shingle sound their neighings far 
and free. 
Shall we leave our play and listen, 
See the gray coats drip and glisten, 

Mount their backs and fare forever through the path- 
ways of the sea? 

When the crows have ceased their cawing 

I shall hear impatient pawing. 

They are tethered to the twilight then and may not 

leap or flee. 

141 



i42 SEA-HORSES 

They will whinny round the headland; 
But when I 'm off to bedland 

I know that they will break their bonds and gallop 
o'er the sea! 



LULLABY OF THE CHILDLESS WOMAN 

RoCK-A-BYE, baby, bye, 

The baby stars blink in the sky. 

The dear mother moon watches tenderly 
And croons to her babes as I croon unto thee. 
Sleep, little one, sleep, 
Sleep, baby one, sleep, 

Rock-a-bye, baby, bye, 

So long have I gazed at the sky 

It may be my eyes are dimmed with the glow. 
For I see not thy face though my baby I know. 
Sleep, ^ittle one, sleep. 
Sleep, baby one, sleep. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, bye, 

I would I might hear thee cry, 

For thou liest so still on my heaving breast 
I fain would awaken thy dreamless rest. 
Sleep, little one, sleep, 
Sleep, baby one, sleep. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, bye, 
The cloud-babies fade in the sky, 

143 



144 LULLABY OF THE CHILDLESS WOMAN 

All the live-long day thou art far from me 
But the dusk brings my little one back to me! 

Sleep, little one, sleep, 

Sleep, baby one, sleep. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, bye, 
At sunrise the birdies fly. 

And my own baby birdie will fly away 
With the first pale gleam of the dawning day. 
Sleep, little one, sleep. 
Sleep, baby one, sleep. 

Rock-a-bye, baby, bye. 

Wilt stay when the sun is high ? 

Ah, if once thou couldst dream past the dawning ray 
Mayhap I could have thee forever and aye. 
Sleep, little one, sleep. 
Sleep, baby one, sleep. 



VALENTINES 

I 
What the cloud is to the mountain, 

What the shore is to the sea, 
Where the vagrant winds arousing 

Lift and blow perpetually; 

What the frost is to the maple 
In the days of autumn's pride, 

What his song is to the robin, 
What the moon is to the tide; 

What the sun is to the dawning, 
What the flower is to the bee. 
What the light is to the crystal— 
This and more thou art to me. 
II 
Light, and warmth, and oceans of dew. 
Out of the chaos a great world grew. 

The earth lay silent, a vague unrest 
Ruffling the calm of the great white breast. 
10 145 



146 VALENTINES 

Over her sadness at break of morn 
A great wave lifted — and love was born! 
Out of Love's heart when the skies were blue 
Floated a whisper, — and that was you! 



NOON 

No ripple stirs the water, 

No song-bird wakes the grove, 

Calm noontide sways his sceptre 
And hushes even love. 

On earth the sun-god bending 
Poureth his wondrous store. 

The soft-tongued tide, advancing, 
Laps the unconscious shore. 

The long low isle of marsh-land 

Stretches in weary waste. 
By sloping sand-banks guarded, 

By winding weeds embraced. 

Comes clearly from the open 
The plash of distant oars, 

Over the rocky headland 
The snowy sea-gull soars. 

I see as if through dream-clouds, 

I hear from far away. 
The scorched air breathes its opiate, 

The drowsy fancies stay. 
147 



148 NOON 

I have no hopes nor longings, 
I scarce can feel your kiss, — 

For thought, and joy, and worship 
Another hour than this ! 



THOUGHTS 

Like birds at your window, 
'Mid vines wet with dew 

My glad thoughts at morning 
Go singing to you. 

Then, when at the nooning 
All things hush to rest, 

My thoughts tired and drooping 
Soft creep to your breast. 

At night, as in slumber 

Your beauty is laid, 
My thoughts nestle closely, 

In love unafraid. 

So morning and evening. 
All day, all night through. 

Else hopeless and homeless 
My thoughts fly to you. 



149 



TO-DAY 

Oh, what is thy prayer, my brother. 

With thy face upturned to the sky? 
'* That some wondrous day I may find a way 

To end the world's misery." 
Nay, do the small deeds of cheering 

To-day, while thy hands are free, 
For the flaming sword and the mighty word 

May never be asked of thee. 

For the deeds that are worth the doing 

Can never admit delay. 
And the work that is ours and the test of our powers 

Can only be done to-day. 

Oh, what is thy dream, my brother, 

As thou farest o'er hill and glen ? 
" I dream of an hour when the lust for power 

Shall die in the love for men." 
Nay, part of the world, my brother. 

Is here, and the time is now; 
And a kindly deed in the time of need 

Is the best that our lives allow. 
150 



TO-DAY 151 

For the man whom the world is needing 

Is the man in the heart of the fray, 
And the lessons of life for the ending of strife 

Can only be learned to-day. 

" Some day in a golden heaven 

All things shall be sweet and fair, 
And the greed of the strong and the triumph of wrong 

Will never be dreamed of there." 
Nay, what of to-day, my brother ? 

See now the appealing hands. 
Oh, the good that is done ere the setting sun 

Is the good that our life demands. 

For the doing of hourly duty 

Was ever old Wisdom's way; 
And the life we would fain give to make the world's 
gain 

Can only be lived to-day. 



THE OTHER SELF 

Relentlessly it follows ; as I walk 

Along the thrice-thronged streets I turn, quick-eyed, 

To catch it unaware. I try to hide 
In the dim forest, but to hear it stalk 

In stealthy quest, forever following. 

Then flee I where the ocean thunders roll. 
And dream of quiet for my restless soul 

Where the storm noises beat and urge and sing. 

The sea-mist touches me with gray, chill hand, 

I fancy in the wild words of the wind 

Derisive murmurs echoing far behind. 
A Shape I know, beside me stirs the sand. 

If I could see a stranger face, and cry 
As to another, then I could endure 
This following. For my fear there is no cure; 

I turn and shudder, knowing it is I. 



152 



SONNETS AND RONDEAUS 



153 



MASTERFUL 



Ah, Sweetheart, would that I might sweep away 

This Western wisdom that is all unwise, 

This life of counterfeit and social lies, 
Might stand before you like a man, and say: 
" You are my own by all the laws that sway 

Men's hearts"; and straightway snatch my precious 
prize 

And bear it where I would, despite of cries 
Or little soft hands that would say me nay. 

Is it not woman's joy to feel the strong 

Compelling power of one who should be lord ? 

To breathe denials but to have them hushed ? 
So would I hold these hands, and stop the word 
With passionate kisses and a grasp that crushed, 
Compel thy yielding to me, right or wrong! 



155 



156 MASTERFUL 

II 

Forgive me, Sweetheart, will you ? For to-day 

The man is uppermost, and the saint forgot ! 

Sometimes the fierce blood rising surges hot, 
And one must love the dear old savage way. 
Did I not see your startled eyes obey 

For one wild moment what they suffered not ? 

Did I not feel the wrist's quick-pulsing spot 
When my hands grasped you in that tender play ? 

Ah, see ! You are as free as is the wind 
In the dim orchards. I would not constrain 
Nor bend you if I might, for I adore 
Your strength of will. Yet is it joy to find 

You — even you — might hear love's fierce blows rain 
Upon your castle, — and fling wide the door! 



I LOVE YOU 

I LOVE you! Little does it seem to say; 

What pinioned words may help me higher soar ? 

** I love you, love you, love you! " O'er and o'er 
The words leap swift to utterance; yet who may 
Freight any words with meaning to convey 

The heart's great blessed burden ? By the shore 

You sit and watch the waves, but all their roar 
Is nothing to the power which they obey! 

The waves upon the shore their music beat 
And over, over, over break in spray. 

Yet each pulse ends but to begin. So then 
" I love you, love you, love you," I repeat. 
And as each wave of passion throbs away 
The heart's great ocean swells to flood again 



157 



AFFINITY 

We gave no sign, no outward difference made 

In speech or attitude, but in that hour 
When first voice answered voice, glad and afraid 

We felt a new life rise in strength and power. 
A Presence, Fate's strong shadow, seemed to call 

To us, and touch us, and our spirits grew 
Into each other, as shed tears might fall 

At eve, and mingle with fresh drops of dew. 
So must it be, though we should live apart, 

Or hand touch hand in hourly fellowship, 
Years pass with never word from heart to heart. 

Or thoughts be daily read on brow and lip. 
As star knows star across th' ethereal sea 
So soul feels soul to all eternity. 



158 



ZENITH 

There are who say that in life's tale of years 
One hour there is, one moment, when the height 
Of joy is reached, the onward sweep of light 

Bursts into full and perfect blaze ; heart- fears 

And keen desire melt and heaven appears. 
And then the tide rolls back, and never sight 
Of such dear bliss may charm again the night: 

Joys may appear, but mingled aye with tears. 

I will not have it so! For us, O Heart, 

The ebb shall never come ! Ah God ! if this 
Dear joy we know be now full flood-tide, let 
Our souls grow numb, the dreaded death-dews wet 
These bodies, that our spirits may depart 
Even 'mid the thrilling rapture of our kiss ! 



159 



RETURNED 

Back from the country — in the town once more ! 
No more the shy things of the woods I meet, 
No more the fragrant pines my nostrils greet ; 

I only dream of standing on the shore, 

The while the waves break round me with a roar. 
The pavement echoes hard beneath my feet, 
The houses shut me in both sides the street, 

Companionship with sun-set hours is o'er. 

But there are fairer things than summer moon 
Rising or setting — than or hills or sky — 

Sweeter than evening's glow or morning dew 
There 's music dearer than the fairy tune 
The winds play on the sea ; and — blessed I ! 
I find them in the city here with you ! 



i6o 



AT REST 

Time was when I had troubles ; when the weight 
Of daily burdens bowed me for awhile, 
So that I heeded not the morning's smile, 

And missed Earth's glad flush as the day grows late. 

Sometimes would worries neither grand nor great 
Irk me as tortures planned in care and guile ; 
So grates incessantly the fretting file; 

As the worn iron I, the sport of Fate. 

But now my world is changed; I look to you 
And all my petty sorrows melt away. 

The storm-tossed bird has found a haven blest. 
Glad to fold dripping wings and, weary, lay 
Its snowy crest in shelter warm and true; 
So satisfied, secure, at last at rest. 



i6i 



NORTHWEST WIND 

The blue sky, like an autumn threshing floor, 

Was by the northwest wind swept clean and clear; 
And westward through the lucent atmosphere 

The far-off hills, the valley watching o'er 

Became familiar neighbors at my door. 

Within the soughing pine-tops I could hear 
The hurrying footsteps of the winds pass near 

In fleet race from the mountains to the shore. 

And as the winds from out the clear northwest 
Blew every vapor till the bracing air 

Filled me with life, and built the world anew. 
So by new vigor is my soul possessed. 
And all my inner sky is clear and fair; 
I find the rousing breath of life in you. 



162 



MY NEW YEAR 

They call it New Year when far south the sun 
Stops in his journey, and turns back to bring 
The light and life and glory of the Spring 

To those in winter desolate and undone. 

New Year it is though still the brooklets run 
Beneath the ice; for soon on happy wing 
Bird-mates will soar and rapturously sing 

That o'er the dark and cold is victory won. 

But my New Year was born when that which burns 
In thy dear eyes and trembles in thy voice, 
Thrills rapture in the kisses of thy mouth. 
When these, for which my woman's nature yearns. 
First bade me even to blessed tears rejoice, 
As my life's summer came from out Love's South. 



163 



REAL TRIUMPH 

Oh ! I am happy when I hear your name 
Spoken with praise or reverence, or I see 
The man I love stand in serenity 

In the world's sunshine, and the glow of fame. 

I am so greedy for the glad acclaim. 

So proud that all the world's wild eulogy 
Falls short of what I know that you can be ; 

To know you victor in life's desperate game. 

Some day may envy or misfortune heap 

Storm-clouds about you, or the phantom lure 
Of dreams confuse you, or fame's bauble toy 

Lie shattered ; then to have you turn and creep 
Into my arms, as one forever sure. 
This were indeed life's triumph and love's joy. 



164 



RESPONSE 

Dear Heart, such power thou hast over me, 
Such is the mystic wonder of thine eyes, 
So charged thy voice is with divine surprise. 

Thy finger's touch has such a potency. 

Thy simple presence is such ecstacy 

That, as dark earth to meet the glad sunrise 
Thrills and arouses to the brightening skies, 

So all my being rushes to meet thee. 

If I were dead and in the grave asleep — 
My body and my soul — and thy dear feet, 

Love-led, should tread above me, — if bent low 
Thou shouldest call to me — oh! however deep 
The slumber I should thrill and rouse to meet 
Thy coming, — for I love, / love thee so ! 



165 



THERE IS NO GOD 

There is no God ? If one should stand at noon 
Where the glow rests, and the warm sunlight plays, 
Where earth is gladdened by the cordial rays 

And blossoms, answering, — where the calm lagoon 

Gives back the brightness of the heart of June, 
And he should say, ** There is no sun " — the day's 
Fair show still round him, — should we lose the blaze 

And warmth, and weep that day has gone so soon ? 

Nay, there would be one word, one only thought, 
" The man is blind! " and throbs of pitying scorn 

Would rouse the heart, and stir the wondering mind. 
We feel and see, and therefore know, — the morn 
With blush of youth ne'er left us till it brought 

Promise of full-grown day. " The man is blind! " 



l66 



THE REAL LIFE 

Dear, do you know as I that precious thrill 
Of subtle pleasure, when in festive throng, 
'Mid laugh and gay return, and careless song, 

A thought comes softly : "This does not fulfil 

My end of being ; I have something still 

That these know naught of, that does not belong 
To the world's life of restlessness and wrong. 

But lives alone and knows one master will ? 

This, then, is love, my love for you, Dear Heart, 
That life which makes all else beside it seem 
Poor and of little moment, — as a dream 
To the day's doings, — that which dwells apart 

Sacred and dear, and, gone this world of tears, 
Shall live with us through all the future years. 



167 



A SHADOW 

The world to-day is radiant, as I ne'er 

Could picture it in wildest dreaming, when 
For long pale hours I lay in flowery glen 

Or wooded copse and tried in vain to tear 

The glamour from my eyes, — and face the glare 
And tumult of the busy world of men. 
I staked my all, — and won! and ne'er again 

Can my blest spirit know a heart's despair! 

And yet, — and yet, — why should it be that now 
When all my heart has longed for is at last 
Within my grasp, and I should be at rest, 
A ghostly Something rising in the glow 

Of love's own fire, — an uninvited guest, — 
Taunts me with just one memory of the past ! 



i68 



DISAPPOINTMENT 

The light has left the hillside. Yesterday 

These skies showed blue against the dusky trees, 
The leaves' soft murmur in the evening breeze 

Was music and the waves danced in the bay. 

Then was my heart, as ever, far away 

With you, and I could see you as one sees 
A mirrored face, and happiness and ease 

And hope were mine in spite of long delay. 

After these months of waiting, this is all ! 

Hope, dead, lies coffined, shrouded in despair 
With all the blessings of the outer air 
Forgot 'neath the black covering of a pall. 

Only the darkening of the woodland ways, 
A heart's low moaning over wasted days. 



169 



ADIEU 

It is '* Adieu " you say, and not farewell, 
And so there comes no bitter thrill of pain 
With this last word, no chilling winter rain 

Of whelming tears. It is the vesper bell 

Of prayer and benediction. Who can tell 
What sudden sin- or sorrow-blots may stain 
The fair page of our happiness ? I gain 

In this '* Adieu " a charm for every spell. 

He who knows all knows how to pity all. 

And so, should e'er it come to me or you 
To know the light yet in the dark to fall. 

There is one heart whose mercy cannot die. 
" Adieu " you fain would say, and tenderly 
I echo back your words and pray : ** A Dieu." 



170 



FOR OUR LOVE'S SAKE 

For our love's sake I bid thee stay, 
Sweet, ere the hours flee away, 
Beneath the old acacia-tree 
That waves its blossoms quiveringly. 
And think awhile of early May, 
Of how the months have fled away. 
And sunrise hour turned twilight gray 
While we have suffered smilingly 
For our love's sake. 

It may not be,— that which we pray 
For tearfully, but dare not say; 
And yet, — if. Sweet, it may not be 
We still may suffer silently. 
Watching the sunlight fade away 
For our love's sake. 



171 



I WILL FORGET 

I WILL forget those days of mingled bliss 
And dear, delicious pain, — will cast from me 
All dreams of what I know can never be. 

Even the remembrance of that parting kiss. 

I knew that some day it would come to this 
In spite of all our sworn fidelity, 
That I must banish even memory, 

And sorrowing learn to say, nor say amiss, 
I will forget. 

I register this vow, and am content 

That it be so. Ah me! yet, — if the door 
Shut on our heaven might be asunder rent 
Even now, and I could see the way we went, — 
I might retract my vow, — and say no more 
I will forget. 



172 



BROTHER AND FRIEND 

Brother and friend I found thee in the hour 

Of need, and day of trial, strong and true. 

In June's fair mirth, and when the sunrise hue 
Showed bright where Joy had built his fairy bower, 
Thou wert a child to sport with, something lower 

Than a friend's need. I gave, methought, thy due, 

An elder sister's gentleness, nor knew 
Ere summer fled my soul would feel thy power. 
Brother and friend! 

A man, with a man's strength and will and fire, 

I know thee, my Alcides, thus a god 
For some fair soul to reverence, and desire 
To own and worship. I can place thee higher 

To-day, in naming thee, — pain's paths just trod, — 
Brother and friend! 



173 



IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN 

It might have been so different a year 

To what has been; the summer's guileless play, 
Not all a jest, comes back to me to-day 

In added sweetness, and provokes a tear. 

Strange pictures rise, pass on, and disappear 
Drawn from your tender words of yesterday, 
When, looking in my eyes in the old way, 

You told me of your life, how passing dear 
It m ight have been. 

Useless to dream, more useless to regret ! 

We might have lived and loved, nor lost the glow 
Of love's first sweet intensity, — to let 
These foolish fancies die I strive, — and yet 

I still must count it happiness to know 
It might have been. 



174 



WHEN SUMMER COMES 

When summer comes, and when o'er hill and lea 
The sun's strong wooing glow hath patiently 
Shed o'er the earth long days his golden dower, 
And then, by force of his own loving power 
Drawn the hard frost, and left it passive, free 
To give forth all its sweets untiringly. 
Shall not the day rise fair for thee and me 
And all life seem but as an opening flower 
When summer comes? 

The days move slowly, — young hearts yearn to be 
Together always, — cannot brook to see 

Their love-days pass, and void each sunny hour ; 

Yet can we smile e'en when Fate's storm-clouds lower. 
Waiting fulfilment of our hearts' decree 
When summer comes. 



175 



126 



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